Once More into the Breach
by Objessions
Summary: AU - A few months after the events of Soul of Goodness, Mac and the team are going after the assassins/contractors trying to nab him for the Organization. Full summary inside in the Chapter 1 author's note.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - Hey everybody! I know I said it might be a little bit, but damned if I can stay away. Also, these little fics are how I reward myself for good behavior. Better for my waistline than the judicious application of way too much beer. I may not get to post quite as frequently/quickly as I have recently, but I expect this one to cook along. Mac and the team are going after the contractors hired by the Organization and hope that bringing them down will lead them closer to whoever has it out for Mac. This takes place a couple of months after Soul of Goodness, near Christmas._

 _As always, I own nothing, but I sure do love to hear from you guys and what you think of my little corner of this sandbox. Expect the usual action, injuries, some bad language, probably some whump/h/c, and the bromacey feels, because I love it. Hope you enjoy this adventure, especially now that Mac has unpacked some of his baggage and is laser focused on his mission._

Once More into the Breach

Mel looked frantically around the room, hoping something would leap to the fore as a solution, but after spinning on the spot several times, almost to the point of dizziness, it was clear that she was at a loss, and nothing she could see was going to do anything about that locked door. Then she glanced at the timer again, ticking down inexorably. Finally, she glanced at Mac who appeared to be out cold in the chair over in the corner. _Damnit it!_ There had to be another way out of this! She looked around the room again, this time bumping into the desk and swearing under her breath and something fell over with a heavy clunk.

She heard a soft chuckle and Mac picked up his head.

"Do I get to play again now?"

Talk about a shit eating grin. She glared at him.

"Oooo, Jack was right. You do suck the fun right out of this! I should never have agreed to Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock to pick partners! Jack always wins that!"

"Because you always pick Lizard," Mac grinned and then canted his head toward the timer. "Jack and Bozer did this room in 56 minutes, which means you have five minutes to tie and six to lose. And Jack is the sorest winner you ever met, I can promise you."

She puffed out a frustrated breath, blowing her bangs out of her face. "You know where the last key is already, don't you?"

"Am I allowed to ..?" he teased.

" _Now!_ I am not losing to Jack and Bozer."

Mac grinned. "That cylinder that just fell over when you bumped into the desk is a cryptex. There's probably a clue to the code to open it right there too. It's got to be the key."

Mel picked up the wooden cylinder and turned it over. There were five turnable keys like a bike lock carved into, all set to the letter 'A'. "You're right. How do you even know what this is? Come up a lot in the spy business, does it?"

Now Mac was next to her. "Bozer went through a real Da Vinci Code phase for a while. He even had the game on the X-Box. He gave it away because I kept beating him and he hates losing at video games." Mac shook his head. It was about the only game he ever beat Bozer at, but he didn't really mind. "Do you see a clue anywhere?"

Mel started going through the desk for anything that looked like it could be a clue to the five letters. Mac saw it a split second before she did. A yellow sticky note was tucked under the blotter. He picked it up and read it. Then he swore. "This is stupid. This doesn't have an answer!" he said indignantly.

"Huh?" Mel said taking the paper from him. "Sure it does!"

She picked the cylinder back up and quickly dialed in the correct letters. The key dropped into her hand and she rushed over to the door and slid it into the final lock. The timer stopped.

Mel turned and grinned at him triumphantly. "With time to spare!"

Mac was still frowning. "How did you ..? That riddle isn't supposed to have a solution."

Mel shook her head. Mac could be so literal sometimes. She used to find it annoying, but as she'd gotten to know him she'd decided that it was actually sort of endearing. "But it does ..."

"Well, it didn't have one in the book."

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" she asked for effect. "Because one is 'nevar' backward and the other is for words."

"What the hell?" Mac was starting to grin now.

"The cryto-thingy …"

"Cryptex; yeah?"

"The solution was n-e-v-a-r."

"Why do you even know that?"

"I'm a proofreader."

"No, you're a nurse. A mean bossy one when you want to be, too."

"I'm only mean and bossy with lousy patients." Now they were both grinning. "I proofread for extra money. Student loans, ya know?"

"When do you have a chance … you work all the time, Mel."

"You're not the only one with insomnia. Might as well make some spare cash when I can't …"

"Wait," he interrupted, a line that was not quite confused, and almost looked amused forming on his forehead. "What does being a proofreader have to do with you knowing an unknowable solution to a classic riddle that's not supposed to have one?"

She grinned as she opened the door. "In the original manuscript Lewis Carroll spelled 'never' as 'nevar', because he thought it was funny and the proofreader caught it so he took it out. I read about it in a little how-to-be-a-proofreader thing when I was just getting started."

Mac laughed now. "And I thought I had cornered the market on obscure trivia in our little group. I'm gonna have to work harder or Jack and Boze'll revoke my geek card."

Mel laughed as she stepped out the door and nearly ran into Jack.

"You guys took longer than us!" he immediately crowed.

"What was your time?" Mel challenged.

"Fifty seven minutes this week on the aquarium room. And, as you may recall, fifty-six on the room you were in for over an hour," Bozer answered for his teammate looking very smug.

"We were done in fifty-three," Mac grinned and pushed the door back so their opponents could see the game clock.

"Why didn't you just come out? What took you so ..? Never mind. Good for you."

Mac rolled his eyes and Mel joined him, both exasperated and Jack's constant 'gentle nudges' that the two of them ought to be an item. "We were talking about the solution to the last key. Good thing I didn't get one of you yahoos as a partner or we'd still be in there."

Jack smirked. "It was just a limerick, Mac. Those are easy!"

"Not this time it wasn't. It was a riddle that's not supposed to have an answer. But it turns out that badass part-time proofreaders can solve those." He paused and threw another grin at Mel. "So you're buying."

"Nuh uh," Jack grinned now. "Steve and Beth are buying. 'Cause they're still stuck in the dress shop room."

"Oh, that's a hard one. Took us right down to the ten second mark," Mac said and he and Jack shared a look of remembered victory and a night of Todd buying all their beer.

"Are you saying you two are smarter than the good doctor and my beautiful wife-to-be?" Bozer asked, looking slightly disgruntled.

"Of course not, Boze. Beth and Steve are both crazy smart, but this is basically what Jack and I do for a living – or to stay alive, as the case may be." Mac gave a little shrug.

"So the spy game is all rattling around nearly defunct malls that have been filled with tiny houses for low income housing interspersed with Escape Rooms that actually pay the bills?" Mel grinned.

Jack laughed. "No, but the man has a point. It's all creative solutions to undesirable situations and some down-to-the-wire escapes."

"But, you know, with generally more ducking and bullets," Mac grinned.

They started toward the exit nearest the bar down the street where they'd agreed to meet at the end of their hour or so, so that the victors could be congratulated and the losers could open their wallets. "Where are Todd and Riley? Still stuck in the library room?" Mel asked as they walked.

Bozer grinned ruefully. "They were done in half an hour and headed to the bar already. We are never gonna hear the end of it either."

Mac was impressed. "Half-hour? How'd they manage ..?"

"I call BS," Jack grumbled. "I bet the little cheaters hacked the door."

Mac leaned toward Mel and said in his best stage whisper, "When I told you he's a sore winner I forgot to mention what a sore loser he is, too."

Jack dropped back and punched him in the arm, gently … but not too gently. Mac reflexively punched back, so before it could escalate into a very late adolescent testosterone contest, Mel gracefully stepped between them. "You should be warned that if I get caught in the crossfire here, I hold a grudge literally forever. My cousin Nora ripped my favorite sweater when we were eleven and I am still not really speaking to her."

The group's laughter carried them out onto the sidewalk.

As they headed toward the bar, Mel noticed Mac glancing around. She asked quietly, "Is it better or worse not having all that security around?"

He slid his hands into the pockets of his coat with a shrug. "Jack and Matty hate it, but if there hadn't been the breach at Phoenix that pulled most of the team … Dodgson never would have made his play to grab me and we wouldn't have caught him, wouldn't have a line on the other contractors gunning for me."

"So you're baiting them to come after you." It wasn't a question.

Mac shrugged again. "Sort of. Inviting might be a better term." He saw her glance around, suddenly worried. "Hey, don't worry. Your security hasn't gone anywhere, and neither has anyone else's." She looked at him and he tipped his chin up. She looked up and caught the barest glimpse of someone dressed in black moving back from the edge of the roof. "If anyone is dumb enough to come after me in a group largely composed of trained agents, then Todd's sniper buddies will rain down hell on 'em. You're safe."

She smiled slightly and shook her head. "Spies," she snorted. "I didn't realize we were being shadowed."

"Of course." He glanced up and Jack and Bozer were waiting by the door of the bar. He and Mel had fallen behind while he assured her of her safety. "Besides, Matty's only sort of down with my plan. I still have a shadow or two of my own. And let's face it, Papa Bear is never really off duty." He grinned and shook his head as Jack made an impatient 'hurry up' gesture and glanced around the street.

She wrinkled her nose affectionately in Jack's general direction. "Do you really mind so much?"

"Nah; I used to, but I'm not gonna change him. He saved my ass when we met in Afghanistan and he's acted like he's responsible for me ever since. I've kind of felt responsible for him, too. I just have to be sneakier about taking care of him. Like while he was recovering from the GSW he got helping me bag Dodgson. I had to be the stealthiest friend ever. But hey, like you said, I'm a spy."

Jack caught that last as he held the door for the two of them. "You're a slow poke is what you are."

"Yeah, yeah, old man. I'll race you back to the car later."

Jack called across the bar, "Boze, order Mac a tequila. I need him too drunk to run."

Everyone laughed lightly and it was easy to forget why those shadows on the roof were there to begin with.


	2. Chapter 2

Mac came out of his room with his hair still wet from the shower, more than ready for his cup of workday motivation. Jack must've gotten up while he was getting cleaned up because he was sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter already prepared for Mac's entrance with wildly disapproving eyebrows. Mac just grinned and went around the counter to get his coffee. "Morning, Jack," he said mildly.

"Nice run?"

"Yeah, really nice. Sunrise was gorgeous," he grinned.

"How much grey hair do you want me to have before we finish rounding up these bad guys?"

"I thought grey hair was yet another thing about you that 'chicks dig'." Mac smirked. "I did nine miles this morning, Jack. At my racing pace." He paused and gave Jack a disapproving stare of his own. "And you're still getting gimpy when we park too far away from the building. That bullet …"

"Hit me almost two months ago," Jack interrupted smoothly. Then he shook his head and took a sip of his own coffee. "But … only crazy people run nine miles for fun. If I hadn't served with you I'd doubt you were ever a soldier. Runnin' is punishment for us sane folks."

"See what a good Army buddy I am? We've got a long day at the office in front of us and I didn't want you to punish yourself this morning. Davies ran with me. And I'm pretty sure that man carries more firepower to a family barbeque than you do into the middle of a war zone."

Jack chuckled, looking less irritated. He knew he shouldn't be out running yet, not that kind of distance at that speed anyway, and frankly it seemed just crossing the threshold to fifty made every little ache and pain and injury, no matter how minor, into a much bigger deal than it would have been at forty-nine. And Mac hadn't been saying much about it, but Jack was getting to appreciate just how many quiet lessons in being a mother hen he might have accidentally taught Mac in the last seven or so years.

 _Seven._ The number made Jack grumble to himself whenever he thought of it. Seven would-be assassins trained to get the drop on the best of the best all trying to fulfill a capture and deliver contract with Mac as their target. And Jack knew Mac had a good plan – back off the security so the Organization guys'd think they could grab him and then clamp down on 'em like a bear trap. But … and there was always a but … he got the idea from an emergency at Phoenix pulling his detail and one of the bastards nearly being successful. And they had caught the guy, sure. But it had cost both of them a couple of days in Medical … well, it had cost Mac a couple of days: for Jack it had been closer to two weeks. But Mac was sure this would break the case, that it was the only way to draw them out in the open. And since it was technically his ass on the line with a folder full of people who wanted to kidnap and probably not handle him with care during shipping, so to speak, it was ultimately his call.

"Davies is good troop," Jack allowed.

"And?" Mac prompted.

"And I shouldn't oughta be running like that anyway."

"And?" Mac's eyebrows went up.

"And if I keep up pushing limits, we're gonna get pulled outta the field for weeks 'cause you're gonna rat me out to the Warden and his chief screw."

Mac cracked up at that. "I am sure Steve and Mel would love to hear the flattering terms with which you speak of them when they aren't around."

"Traitor," Jack mumbled, but he grinned around his cup as he took another drink. If he was ever in a position to need to keep Mac reigned in due to an injury – and who was he kidding? _If?_ ' _When_ ' was much more likely to cover it – he was going to bring up this very conversation.

0-0-0

When the next attack came, a few weeks later, it was like a lightning bolt out of a clear blue sky on the outskirts of the Phoenix parking lot, where long-term parking was relegated when staff was gone for more than a week on missions. The team was exhausted, jet lagged, dusty, and a little dinged up. Mac, Jack, and Riley were walking toward their vehicles, happy to be headed home; they were in the one place it didn't occur to them anyone would try to make good on their contract on MacGyver. It would have been a bigger group, but they hadn't even been off the plane long, and Milton was still getting patched up in Medical while Steve was restocking his kit, since they'd only be out of the rotation for a day or so.

It all happened so fast. Squealing tires, a hail of gunfire, shouts of pain, sounds of a struggle, and tires squealing again. Riley was on her hands and knees blinking into the blinding sun trying to see who was converging on them from the building. The first thing she heard over the ringing in her ears was Jack swearing. He was getting to his feet, looking around, but the dark blue van that had screeched to a halt had already sped away with his partner inside. Jack helped Riley to her feet, and they took off at a jog toward the tactical team that had been deployed immediately upon security picking up sounds of gunfire.

Riley was already on her phone with Matty, giving her a quick rundown and getting what she needed brought to her in the parking lot as Jack ordered a tactical vehicle brought around and arranged for backup. Their van skidded to a stop in front of them, with Milton behind the wheel and a very disgruntled looking Mel in the passenger seat because she'd followed him and was trying to finish bandaging up the arm that she'd been working on in Medical when the alarm sounded. "Hey, buddy," he said. "How much of a head start to they have?"

Jack glanced at his watch as Riley opened the door and climbed inside hauling the duffle bag full of equipment Matty had had run down in behind her. "Maybe five or six minutes now," Jack practically growled as he climbed in the van, followed closely by Steve who had just sprinted out of the building. "They were headed east."

"You're hit," Steve observed grimly, as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Jack glanced down at his forearm, which was bleeding freely, but was not painful at the moment. Too much adrenaline. Good. He needed to focus. "Ain't that what we pay you to worry about?" he quipped, and then promptly ignored the doc in favor of getting on the radio to direct the larger team to fan out, as well as their air support to cover any potential attempts to exit the city that way. Then he glanced at Riley whose fingers were flying over the keyboard. "Got anything?"

"I've got his phone … I'm narrowing the location …" She paused, working the problem.

"What's going on?" Mel finally asked from her position in the front where she had finally taped down a long bandage over a not-insignificant knife wound just above Todd's elbow that he'd sauntered in with not long ago.

"Somebody attacked us and grabbed Mac," Jack answered tersely.

"Oh," she said quietly. She'd known that was a possibility, of course, had known their plan was even more dangerous than the everyday dangers agents faced as a matter of course. Stuff like this had happened to other employees at the Foundation. And then there was the day the Organization had almost truly taken over the building if not for this ops team she was currently sharing a speeding vehicle with. She found this incident bothered her more. That was the hell of being a field medic she supposed. Instead of just patching this crew up and giving them dirty looks when they didn't do what they were supposed to, they were friends now. She unfastened her seatbelt and climbed in back to ask Steve, "What can I do?"

He glanced up from where is was trying to keep Jack's arm still enough to use some surgical glue on what turned out to be just a very long graze. "Well, since knocking him over the head to keep him from talking with his hands is out of the question, organize the kit, would you? I was still re-supplying when the alarm went off."

She went immediately to work, and after another few seconds she heard Riley say, "Yes! He's headed east on Route 10 in East LA … traveling about twenty miles per hour, so they're still in a vehicle and traffic isn't helping them."

Jack was already on the radio, his orders interrupted with a short, "Ow, goddamn it Steve, leave some arm hair when you use tape, wouldja?"

Steve shook his head and moved to the floor of the van, taking the bag back from Mel and making a final inspection before zipping it up. He saw Mel actually flinch when Riley swore, "Damn it! I've lost the phone. Somebody chucked it or turned it off and took the battery out. Does tactical have visual from the air?"

Jack conferred with someone on the other end of the radio. "They thought they did but they've lost 'em." Jack's face was grim.

Riley nodded, thinking, and her fingers started working their magic again. "I'm gonna try his watch."

"His watch?" Jack asked.

"It's a runner's watch; it's got GPS in it to track his race training."

"When did he get that?" Jack frowned.

"When we went Christmas shopping for you guys the other day." Riley actually managed a small smile.

A few minutes passed that felt to everyone in the can like hours. Riley went on just to break the silence. "His dad is kinda making an effort again and sent him a gift card as a present … so he did a little shopping of his own, too … And right now I'm pretty damned happy about it. I've got the GPS. They're … hang on …"

It seemed everyone in the Phoenix van was holding their breath. "They're on the San Bernadino Freeway and traffic is at a standstill. Newsfeed says there's a huge accident."

Todd was doing his best to compensate for the information he was overhearing to get them as close as he could to wherever Mac was. Jack was on the radio again. Then he was listening. "We have visual," he reported. "There's a blue van in the middle of the freeway just short of a pile up, abandoned, and smoking. We'll have guys on the ground in five. If they fled on foot they can't have gotten very far. Riley?" he looked for confirmation that she still had a signal.

"I've lost the watch," she said, her eyes widening with their narrowing options.


	3. Chapter 3

Over an hour passed with no news or ability to pick up any signal from the tech Mac always carried with him. The Phoenix team was in San Bernardino doing a door to door, but that area was fairly populated and had a large number of businesses and office buildings, as well. Riley had just wondered aloud where they could have been headed when a call came in from one of the other team members on the wider search. A small plane without proper clearance or flight plan had been discovered at the Ontario International Airport not far away going through pre-flight behind one of the larger hangars. The two crew members were being brought in for interrogation as quickly as possible. At least they knew this had probably been one of the capture and deliver jobs they had on their radar and not an assassination attempt. It didn't make them feel much better, but it did remove some of the strain from their faces.

Then, a call came in from the mobile lab team processing the van. The smoke and the fire that caused it were from the cigarette lighter having dropped under the driver's seat. There was what appeared to be a shoe print on the handle. Jack actually smiled at that. Tie Mac up and throw him on the floor of a van, and count him out, go ahead; that boy was always gonna find a way to make trouble. Jack's smile faded when the field tech confirmed the blood type from the puddle of it in the van as O negative, which he knew to be Mac's as they had both been, on one or two occasions, emergency donors for each other. No one spoke for a moment. Mel put her hand on Jack's arm, steely resolve in her grey eyes. "It's a common type. That's not DNA. It doesn't have to be his. And even if he's hurt, he's Mac. He'll be fine." Jack nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. Mel nudged him with her elbow, and teased, "And if he's not, we can make you our victim … I mean donor, and sort him out."

Her voice was tense, and it was obviously an effort to even try to speak lightly, but she'd picked up on the fact that joking under stress was often what he and Mac did. Oddly, that helped. Jack gave a little nod and a half smile. "Yes, ma'am. Drain me dry if you need to." Jack was only sort of kidding. There was a beat of silence, then Jack asked, "I know you're not the only one looking, Ri, but you see anything on the sat feed?"

Riley was staring intensely at her computer, occasionally talking to someone on her headset that they weren't patched in to. She glanced up. "Nothing."

Her voice was almost cold. She was deep in thought, contemplating her options, their next steps. Jack approved. Riley had come a long way, not just since he'd known her as a scrappy kid who gave him an endless hard time, but since joining Phoenix. She was no longer a girl taking a deal; she was an agent, and growing in those abilities and talents every day. Now if they should just track down the other talented young person on their ops team, they'd be all set. Riley was frowning, like she almost had an idea, but couldn't quite articulate it yet, like having the word on the tip of your tongue, when Jack's phone buzzed with an unknown number.

Almost expecting a ransom call at this point, or some Organization tool-bag to call up just to taunt Phoenix, Jack gave Riley a nod to tap in. When she had, Jack answered on speaker. "Dalton."

"Jack …" There was an almost audible collective sigh of relief from everyone in the van.

"Mac, where are you, what's going on?" Jack asked all in one breath.

"Um … I," Mac answered slowly. Then after a second or two. "Abandoned gas station … White and red sign with a dinosaur on it … That's funny."

Mac's voice had a slightly sleepy dreamy quality to it.

"Buddy, where are the bad guys? Are you hurt?"

Snort of laughter, then a clatter of things falling, a moment of silence in which Jack was about to absolutely yell into the phone, then, "No worries. I got 'em all tied up."

More silence. Jack looked at Riley, who frowned in return. She couldn't get a signal from wherever Mac was calling from.

"That's good, brother. I asked if you're hurt."

There was a long pause, like maybe he was thinking about it.

"Nah. Well … maybe, but I don't think so, not bad anyway. They shot me up with something after I lit the van on fire though."

Jack's eyes widened; he was even more glad than usual that they had the team medic, correction – medics - on board. Steve entered the conversation with a concerned, "Do you have any idea what they dosed you with?"

"Uh uh; stung like hell though. And I feel about half in the bag … Make that three-and-a-quarter-quarters."

"Can you look around a little more, Mac? Give us something other than the sign to help find ya? We can't trace your call."

"Sure," he said, agreeable, and now that he was listening for it, Jack could hear what sounded an awful lot like intoxication in his partner's voice. There was some more crashing in the background.

"Mac! … Mac!"

"Sorry, Jack. I fell over. Now I'm on the floor." His tone was entirely apologetic. "The gas station is dirty, if that helps. And silver. It's dirty and silver with a dinosaur sign." Another snort of laugher. "Like _Toy Story_."

"That all ya got for me, bud?"

"Tell Ri, tell her, I'm … I'm wearing the thing …"

"She already thought of that, but I think they musta taken your watch, kiddo."

"No, not that, the cool thing we made." He was beginning to slur his words now.

"Mac, you're gonna need to …"

"Not now, Jack. I need to close my eyes for a minute. Just a minute though."

"Mac!" Jack called loudly. "Angus MacGyver!"

This time Jack was only answered by a soft snore, but at least the call stayed active so he could hear what was going on where his partner was, which wasn't, apparently, anything.

"Goddamn it!" He looked at Riley. "Any idea what the hell Mac was talking about?" Jack snapped, his concern making him gruff.

The cool operator that he'd seen a glimpse of was gone, and he saw the 'Riley didn't do her homework' face that he knew from her as a young teen. "No … I … we've been doing a bunch of stuff in the lab and with tech … and …" Her expression lit back up. "Holy shit, he must've finished them."

"Ri ..?"

She held up her hand and whipped out her phone. "Did Mac finish the coating for the tracking chips that you were helping him out with?" A smile split her face. "Can you activate them? I think he might have one or more on him and we need to … Okay, that's amazing." She dropped her phone onto the bench and her fingers flashed over the keys. She pulled up a satellite street view image of an abandoned gas station, mostly silver with red trim, and some daring soul had climbed up and painted the sign to look like the one from toy story. "I've got it."

She gave the address to Todd and Jack radioed the rest of the team as their van sped to the location. Steve was already on the phone with Medical, and Matty had dispatched a helicopter to land in the nearby parking lot so they could have their agent back at Phoenix in the shortest possible amount of time. In route, Jack looked at her with a silent question. She shrugged. "Mac and I were talking about this whole capture and deliver thing one day, and I said it was too bad we couldn't just _LoJack_ him like a car in case they got the drop on us. He said that tech existed, for like dementia patients and kids who wander, but most of it's kinda big and then even if you could hide it, any scan for radio or wi-fi frequencies would give you away. We've been working on miniaturizing it, or really Mac has, I've just been the tech consult. And he and Beth were working on some sort of polymer coating that would allow it to transmit but not be easily scanned for. And they did it. I bet he was wearing it home so we could test it out while we were off under lock and key with our secret security detail."

Jack grinned. "You guys actually _LoJacked_ Mac."

"We sort of did, yeah. And really, it was kinda his idea."

Jack chuckled a little in spite of himself. "I've been wantin' a way to keep tabs on that reckless little shit since he was twenty. This is going to revolutionize my job in security."

0-0-0

When they got to the gas station, about a quarter of an hour later, they found Mac passed out in what had been at one time, the store front for a little gas and service station, that had been out of business for a while. He looked a little beat up, and his respiration and pulse were, as Steve put it, a little wonky, but he seemed mostly okay. Clearly the blood in the van belonged to someone else. They'd just have to get him back to Phoenix and make sure he hadn't been given anything dangerous. Jack and Todd found the guys who had kidnapped him behind the counter, unconscious and bloodied, tied up with some vehicle belts that had obviously been lying around the defunct shop. Only one of them was even semi-conscious before the guys muscled them into the van, and that guy had a badly broken nose and a partial boot print on his face, which probably explained the blood in the van. They couldn't bring Mac around either, other than some sleepy mumbling as they eased him onto a stretcher and moved him to the helicopter. Jack went along with them, but buckled himself into a seat so he'd be out of the medics' way.

A little way into the short flight, Mac opened his eyes a little, trying very hard to focus on what was going on around him. He immediately saw Mel kneeling down next to him where he was … on the floor, on a stretcher. Now why didn't he remember getting there? _Oh, yeah, drugs_ , he thought, more amused than anything else as the aircraft seemed to be spinning wildly, because he knew it was just whatever chemical they'd given him, since no one else seemed to notice. "Hey, Melody. Whatchu doing?" he asked, feeling his eyes want to close again.

"Hey, Mac," she said quietly. Or did she? Helicopters were pretty loud, he thought disjointedly. She might have been shouting. Everything sounded weird. "I'm just getting blood so the lab can figure out what has you all loopy just as soon as we land, okay?"

Like any self-respecting nurse, she didn't wait for him to respond, just snugged the tourniquet around his arm. Instead of any grumbling or protest, he just mumbled, "'Kay."

She smiled, already changing out vials. He was a much better bleeder when he wasn't all tense and rigid. "You're usually a lot grumpier when somebody wants to stab you with pointy things," she observed.

"I'm not grumpy with you. Right now anyway. I was with the bad guys for doing it though," he said softly, almost dozing again.

"You sure as hell were," she grinned. "One guy was still out cold when they loaded them up."

When Jack saw Mac talking, he unbuckled and moved down to the floor. "I wish you'd left some ass kickin' for me, kid. You know how I get when I'm all stressed out and I don't get to dish out some damage."

Mac's eyes had closed again, but he heard Jack and forced them back open. "Sorry 'bout that, big guy. I hit 'em with a piece of exhaust pipe or something. And they kept being more than one of themselves, so I maybe swung a little wild … Then there was all the butterflies with the fire breath …" He trailed off dreamily again.

Steve was crouching down to let Mel in on the plan once they landed, which was happening shortly and Jack started to ask a wide-eyed question. Steve just shrugged. "Some sort of hypnotic hallucinogenic for sure. Can't really say what until we get the labs back. I've got them ready to put a serious rush on it the minute we touch down." He paused, collecting the samples from Mel. "You get him settled, monitor him for any changes, and I'll work with the lab so we know if we need to worry."

She nodded, and finished taping down the IV line she'd started for fluids. She glanced at Jack and then back at Steve who was already standing up again, getting back on the radio. "We'll make sure he's comfortable until you get back to us."

Jack noticed that Mel had managed to start the IV in a much less irritating spot than the back of his partner's hand and he gave her an approving nod. "That's some skill, Nurse Sullivan."

She winked. "Oh, I'm good." They began their decent and the helicopter jerked unpleasantly. Mel caught herself on the edge of the stretcher. Mac had one eye half open. She gave him her most reassuring smile. "Hey, almost home, Mac. We're landing now. That's why the ride's a little rough."

She was met with a slightly dopey smile in return. "You're kind a cute when you're not being all bossy and mean," he murmured.

She grinned, and glanced at Jack, who she was sure noticed a hint of color come into her cheeks. "And you're pretty cute when you're not arguing with me and _making_ me be all bossy and mean."

Mac had already closed his eyes again, despite the thud of touchdown. Jack was grinning from ear to ear and gave her a double raise of his eyebrows. "Who we kiddin'? You think he's damned cute all the time."

Mel just got to her feet, preparing to move. "Shut up, Jackass."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N - So lots of people wanted more loopy Mac, and while I didn't originally plan on it, I am an endless reader pleaser (when it serves me, lol). So here you go. Pure fluff, but I had fun with it and I may have somewhere to go with a tiny idea if gave me, too. Have fun! ~ J_

Based on the first couple of hours back at Phoenix, the team was expecting Mac to be out for a while. He dozed off and on, mumbled occasionally, and was generally a lot more compliant and honest than any member of the medical staff (or Jack) was used to seeing. The lab results were a little concerning, since the not-quite-successful kidnappers had injected him with a cocktail of drugs that seemed designed to perfectly put Mac out of his element and off his game, preventing escape and making him pliable (not to mention miserable if they wanted him to be). Jack didn't understand everything Steve rattled off (Jack was more of a psychology and sociology guy; biology and chemistry were distant unpleasant memories of his early undergrad days back in – well, hell, a real long time ago). He did know what lysergic acid diethylamide was, since the recreational use of LSD hadn't changed much since before he was born and he worked with enough law enforcement to have more than a passing familiarity with it, and he had heard of some real bad dudes using it in enhanced interrogation. He knew all about morphine since he had some personal experience with it, and also knew it was something that Mac avoided since, unlike for most people, it keyed him up, intensified pain. But Steve explained that the additional presence of something called scopolamine meant that someone wanted him dopey, maybe even just as keyed up as his medical records indicated it would make him, but unable to remember what occurred while under the influence of the drug. Jack had started clenching and unclenching his fists, but the bullet graze on his forearm was a less than gentle reminder that it was not a productive response.

There was other stuff in Mac's system, and Steve explained it, but Jack wasn't really paying much attention after he started coming to the conclusion that maybe the Organization didn't just want him to put him out of their way or exact revenge on his father, but maybe they wanted Mac for other, perhaps even more sinister reasons, he was distracted. Also, once he knew his partner hadn't been poisoned and wasn't going to overdose from anything, Jack's mind was already skipping ahead to interrogating the guys they'd pulled in, up close and personal like. And he was wondering how they might tighten things up around Phoenix and around Mac so the next attempt just yielded a bad guy capture and not a bruised and drugged partner who'd nearly been abducted out of Phoenix's front office.

They'd gotten a very drowsy Mac settled in one of their double rooms, just so Jack could sleep on the spare bed, since there was no way he was leaving his partner in that state, and every time Mac woke up, he'd randomly start talking to Jack anyway, whether the man was in the room or not. Other than being drugged, Mac had escaped with little more than a few scrapes and bruises. So while there was sleep to be had his was relatively peaceful (mostly because the sedative was the most powerful thing occupying his system). Around midnight, as Mac's body started to metabolize certain other components of the drugs, his eyes snapped open. He'd been on the edge of an unpleasant dream, he thought, but for a change his brain decided to spare him the show. For a second he didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there, but after a minute it came back to him, more or less. He lay there for a second, thinking that he should probably feel a particular way about the events leading up to this fuzzy awakening, but also thinking with a slight smirk that he just couldn't quite seem to be bothered to do so. The infirmary was dimmed, and there wasn't much going on. He could hear quiet conversation down the hall, probably whoever had the overnight shift talking with someone, or maybe just somebody watching TV. Jack was snoring in the bed nearby. His partner was out cold. It had been a long day for sure; and knowing Jack, and his massive protective streak, more stressful than most of their work days. But, Mac had slept for a lot of it, so whatever they'd doped him with must've finally worn off, probably faster than anyone, including the bad guys, had planned. That's just how stuff worked for him usually, Mac reasoned.

He had the fleeting thought that nobody would probably mind very much if he just went home since he was awake and basically uninjured. After all, they'd just gotten back from a mission when everything hit the fan and he hadn't slept in his own bed, or really a bed at all, in almost ten days. Besides, the plastic covered pillows under all the cases in the infirmary were noisy; crinkly. And the beds were just … hard. He wasn't really hurt per say, but he was damned sore all over, a lot of it from the last mission, if he was honest. Then he swore to himself, thinking that since he was wearing a hospital gown he definitely didn't put on himself, someone … probably Steve, because that was how his luck ran … had seen the lovely sunset marking his back and ribs and was no doubt going to line him out for not reporting the injury because the bruises were already fading so they were obviously not fresh to any trained eye. Mac just shrugged to himself. That was fair; he probably should've said something. It just wasn't the sort of thing he usually did. He sighed. He shouldn't leave in the middle of the night just for his soft bed. Even if he left a note, Jack would be beside himself, say nothing about the medical staff. Steve he would be able to just smooth things over with, but Mel … Well, he kind of preferred not-irritated-with-him Mel. And not-irritated Mel seemed to come out a lot more often if he followed the rules when they were at work.

And he knew the rules. He just didn't like them most of the time, or think they were objectively necessary, as it applied to him at least. Speaking of rules … he was not a fan of the ubiquitous gown. If he was going to stay until someone signed him out in the morning, he could at least do so in clothes that were halfway comfortable and didn't advertise to anyone in the room that he favored plaid boxers if he got out of bed. His gym locker wasn't that far from here. And he felt fine, wide awake even. He'd just unhook the IV line, not take it out or anything, just unscrew the fluids for a few minutes, take a little walk to the elevator. He realized he had a pulse oximeter clipped to a finger, too. Hmmm. Jack was asleep. He'd never notice if Mac just 'borrowed' his finger for a couple of minutes. It's not like he was planning on leaving Phoenix, just this floor, for a minute … He had undone the line and was most of the way out of bed when Mel came through the door of his room, trying to look serious and failing pretty miserably as she caught her reflection in the room's mirror. To Mac she looked stern as anything. _Busted._ "Um, hey, Mel."

She frowned at him. "Where do you think you're going?"

Mac fidgeted with the blanket for a second. Mac was usually pretty much cool as a cucumber; even here in Medical where he often had a case of the nerves, he either turned on the charm or got stubborn and overly analytical. Seeing him looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar was, she hated to admit, totally adorable. "Bathroom?"

"That's what the call button is for, Mac. So one of us can do things like unhook your IV in a way that doesn't set the alarm off down in our office."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry." She concealed her smile at his uncharacteristic agreeability. "So I can go?" She nodded. "I can use the call button when I'm back in bed and then you can come back and …"

"I'll just wait right here," she offered, with a knowing look on her face.

Mac took about two steps before something made him confess. "I was really going to go to my locker and get some sweats and a t-shirt."

"You mean you weren't staging a daring escape? Jack will be so pleased."

"I only did that like one time," Mac defended.

"Just the once?"

Mac actually blushed. "Well, maybe a couple of … but not this time. And those were mission related!" He picked at the collar of the gown. "This thing is …"

"Awful. I know." If he remembered any of this vulnerability, this honesty, the poor guy was going to be so embarrassed. He was usually so self-contained. She thought only Jack and Bozer probably knew the all of him, and maybe not even them, although she thought Jack more likely than anyone since they'd been in combat together, even before what they did for DXS and Phoenix. "How about you get back in bed and I'll go get you some clothes."

"I could just …"

"Mac, honey, I can't let you go wandering around." She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm, leading the surprisingly pliable agent back over to the bed. "You're still high as a kite."

He shook his head once, twice, and then continued shaking it as he spoke. "No, I'm f … whoa …" He quickly lay back down, putting a hand over his eyes for a minute. "Everything just started spinning and there's Christmas lights flashing. That's not happening is it?"

"No. It's not; but you were given a pretty powerful hallucinogen so seeing things like colored lights is actually pretty mild. I've been worried about you." She shouldn't have said that out loud. It just kind of popped out. She just moved on smoothly. "What's your locker combination, Mac? I'll go get some of your own clothes for you to sleep in."

He rattled it off and then promised to stay put while she went and got his sweats. When Mel came back, Mac was pacing laps around the room. It was going to be a long night; she could tell. She was glad she'd just barely gotten in for second shift when the team had arrived originally because she'd offered to pull the overnight as extra hands since Mac was in an unusual situation. Matty had made sure the schedule accommodated that, as well as calling in a few favors so Steve could sleep in the on-call room here and step in as Mac's doctor as needed. Being jacked up on that drug cocktail, combined with how he felt about medical care in general made keeping the people around him those he had a high comfort level with, at least until he started coming down, seem important to everyone. Mel sent him to the attached bathroom to get changed and then ordered him back into bed. When she told him she needed to get another blood sample, that they'd need them every few hours for a little while, he shrugged, but was enough back to himself to look vaguely uncomfortable, but when she just used the port already in his arm before reattaching the IV line, he'd given her a sunny smile. Then he said he was hungry and asked if he was allowed to eat. She almost cracked up then. Mac asking if he was allowed to do anything, instead of just going in fully prepared with five scientific articles to back up what he wanted, was a true novelty. "Sure. I'll go get you something."

When she got back not five minutes later, he was fidgeting and chewing his thumbnail. Now he wasn't hungry, but he apologized at least five times for making her go get something, in spite of her reassurances that she didn't mind and that it was her job to help him be comfortable. He didn't want to watch TV, didn't want to listen to music, didn't want to read. Everything sounded weird and text made no sense. He'd already tried the newspaper while she was gone and it had looked like nonsense. He'd looked legitimately worried for a minute. "You don't think that's permanent do you? Like whatever they gave me …"

"Oh, no," she was quick to reassure him. Keeping him calm while this garbage wore off was the priority here, because if anyone could have a damaging experience with a hallucinogen it would be a combat vet with his own layers of trauma from his past. "That happens to lots of people, even just from medication like surgical anesthesia. I'm sure things will go back to normal soon."

His shoulders sagged with relief, but only for a moment. He was quickly interested in finding something else to do. He hated sitting and he wasn't tired anymore, he informed her almost apologetically. He really wanted to walk around again, but Mel reminded him that wandering wasn't an option. He didn't argue, in fact apologized again, this time for being a pain. She did snicker then, she couldn't help it. Then she had an idea. "Boze told me you built a replica of the Enterprise with paper clips when you were sick one time."

"I did. It was a really cool scale model." He grinned at the memory.

"If I bring you paperclips, will you build me one?"

"Sure! That'd be great. It'll take hours." He was pleased at the prospect of having something to do, and figured by the time he finished whoever the dayshift doc was would show up to cut him loose. He also had the vague idea that it would be really nice to sort of say thank you to Mel for putting up with him tonight by making something for her. That thought felt weird rattling around his head. Maybe he should get rid of it by saying it out loud. At the moment that seemed like a logical way to get something out of his head. But he kept it to himself anyway.

At that point, worried about leaving him alone, no matter what sorts of promises he made, she reluctantly woke Jack, who had not only been up for days just like Mac when they'd returned from the mission, but had his own bumps and bruises from that mission, and a brand new bullet graze, that she wasn't sure he actually let anyone treat properly once they'd gotten back here, too. "Jack," she shook him gently. "Jack!" she said a little more forcefully.

"Hmmm?" he was already sitting up rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

She explained the situation, and said, "He's a little manic at the moment; not upset," she added quickly. "I'm just afraid he'll get up and wander and hurt himself. His pupils still look like saucers."

"How many times has he tried to leave?" Jack asked with a slight grin.

"None, honestly." Jack's eyebrows went up. "He's actually being really sweet, but he's getting squirrely. That can happen with some of the drugs he was given … and Steve said you already know about how he metabolizes morphine … It's not common, but … he's Mac."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled. "He is a rare one. A rare what, some days I'd be hard pressed to tell ya." He went and sat at the foot of Mac's bed. "Hey, bud. Good to see you awake. Way you kicked those guys' asses today, I figured you'd be worn out for a week. You remember doin' that?"

Mac laughed. "Sort of. Starting to realizing the butterflies I was swinging at probably weren't there though."

Between the two of them they managed to keep him in bed and entertained, if not entirely as calm as they would have liked. It seemed the constant movement of Mac's thoughts, which he normally kept to himself and which made him quiet and introspective most of the time, just had to be shared with everyone present. Jack almost wanted to take a video of Mac being so cooperative and pleasant and of him distractedly trying to explain M-Theory to two non-physics types, but he really didn't think it was fair, since the kid was definitely a little out of his head at the moment. When he was finally ready to crash again around sunrise, Jack gratefully fell into bed and was asleep again before Mel had the lights off.

Mac had sleepily asked her if she liked her starship and grinned when she said, "Absolutely! It's totally awesome."

He grinned back as he turned over on his side, already dozing. "Good. You're kind of awesome, too. Thanks for …" he yawned, "taking care of me tonight." He'd been right. His head did feel better after saying it.

Mel hung up her new paperclip Enterprise in her office and told Brian, the dayshift nurse, that she wasn't going home, was just going to crash in the on-call room, since her neighbor had already been called to feed her cat when she stayed on for the extra shift anyway and knew to just keep it up until she got home. When Mac was up, Brian could just let her know. When she went inside the bunk room, Steve rolled over and asked how their patient was doing.

She dropped down onto a cot and was half asleep as she answered. "Pretty great, actually."

"Not already trying to leave?"

"Nope. But he was keyed up for quite a while. He's changed clothes, paced for a while, talked my and Jack's ears off, and built a scale model of the U.S.S. Enterprise-D out of paperclips. I think he might be starting to come down now. His sleep seemed more genuine and less drug-induced when he crashed – and I do mean crashed – this time. I bet he'll be out until noon."

Steve grinned and started to roll off the cot to grab some coffee and look at the most recent labs. "That'll be the day."

Mel smiled as she drifted off for some well-deserved sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - And this is where the little fluff I wrote yesterday took me ..._

Mel nearly turned out to be right. It was almost eleven a.m. when Mac woke up again. He was under a pile of blankets, and his face was buried in his pillow when he came around. Holy hell, he had a headache, and he felt vaguely like he'd been beaten with a pillowcase full of oranges. He rifled though the well-ordered filing cabinet of his mind for a few minutes and came up empty as to how he had gotten the worst hangover of his life. He'd had no plans on drinking when they walked out of Matty's office yesterday, knowing they were probably still slightly dehydrated from the heat and activity level of the mission. Somebody, and he was guessing it had to have been Jack, must've made a compelling case for better relaxation through fermentation. This was why he didn't ever really drink more than the occasional beer or two. _Ugh._ He squeezed his eyes shut tighter against the throbbing in his temples. He'd never had a hangover want to be a migraine before. _What the hell did we drink last night?_ He reached up to massage the back of his neck to get the headache to back off enough to go take some aspirin and maybe make himself a runny egg, and was thinking he should probably make a pan full because if he felt this bad, Jack must be nearly in a coma. His movement was stopped by the unpleasant pull of tape and the burning of an IV line being tugged.

Jack heard a muffled, "Well, shit."

He waited a minute for Mac to pull the covers off his head and mumble, "What the actual ass?" before moving from his spot in the chair next to Mac's bed to the foot of it.

"Hey, Mac, you doin' okay, brother?" he asked gently.

"No … I'm pretty sure I'm dying," was the half-sarcastic quietly grumbled reply.

Before just hitting the call button and pissing off his friend, Jack asked, "What's goin' on, bud?"

Mac was breathing carefully. He'd had migraines off and on since he was a teenager, a few really bad ones after concussions; and this one was right up on the list. "Headache," he squinted. He looked around the artificially dim room and processed that he was in the medical wing of Phoenix. But he had no idea why. Then he saw Jack's forearm was bandaged. "What the hell happened, man?"

Jack's eyebrows climbed a little. "What do you remember?"

Mac thought about it, slowed down a little by his aching head. "Matty dismissed us. Todd and Steve were headed down here … You, me, and Riley were talking about what takeout to get and that we should probably call Boze and check in because we missed a tux fitting … We were walking out to long-term parking …" He trailed off, frustrated. "That's all I got." Jack was frowning. "So spill, Jack, what happened?"

Jack sighed. "We got jumped in the parking lot …" And he proceeded to tell Mac the whole story.

The lines of Mac's frown grew deeper as the situation became clear. Jack did leave off details of Mac's drug-induced rambling, but Mac could tell from the small smile his friend was wearing that he must've been entertaining. He wondered if he'd said anything truly embarrassing or that he'd regret later. Probably not. If he'd been a complete ass, Jack wouldn't have been able to resist telling him about it, would, in fact, probably have video. "Okay," Mac puffed out a sigh, looking around the room. "Where are my clothes?"

Jack smiled and shook his head. Mac was clearly feeling like himself this morning. "They were filthy and covered with someone else's blood, dude. I threw 'em in the wash in the gym."

Mac pressed the call button on the railing of his bed. The sooner he got things moving the better. "Would you mind grabbing my back up bag out of my locker then, please?"

Jack got up, but he wasn't sure whether it was to comply with Mac's request or just to get between him and the door until he was sure his partner was thinking clearly. "Mac, I'm not sure Steve is gonna wanna let you leave this morning," Jack glanced at his watch, "almost afternoon, actually. The stuff those bad guys dosed you with, not so bueno. Ya know?"

Mac rubbed his temples. "I'm sure; since I've lost the last twenty or so hours worth of my memory. But we should get out of here asap; all of us should probably …" He stopped as Steve walked in, followed closely by Mel. "Hey guys," Mac said, pleasantly enough for a guy with a killer headache, who was already distracted by the ten steps ahead he was thinking. "So, how fast can you get me out of here? I'm looking to set a record."

Steve shook his head. "And so it begins." Mac just frowned at him. "Slow your roll a minute. I stayed here all damned night in case you needed me, and to examine you before you could sweet talk anyone into a discharge this morning."

Mac knew better than to think he was going anywhere without at least putting up with the basics. So he did. For about two minutes. "Okay, see, I'm fine. No funny lights or sounds or whatever, just Mac; in a hurry … Jack, are you going to go grab my bag or am I going to have to walk halfway across the building in my pajamas?" Jack decided to just humor his partner. He obviously had something important on his mind; he was just still a little muddled was all. His thoughts were more likely to smooth out if he was happy with his situation, Jack thought.

"Mac," Mel began, in the same tone she'd used with him all night, except this morning instead of a dopey grin in response she got a raised eyebrow and a look that bordered on a glare. "You're going to just sit right here for a minute and I'm going to take a blood sample for the lab."

He gave her a speculative sort of look, then nodded. When she finished, she moved to reattach his IV line. "What're you doing? You can take that out now. Jack'll be back any minute."

She glanced at Steve. This didn't feel like Mac just giving her a hard time, and as a result she wasn't sure how to react. She'd normally just glare at him, dig in, and see which one of them came up more stubborn in the end, or she'd tap in Matty and get doctor's orders made into official orders from the top, but that didn't seem like the right way to respond here.

Steve was looking thoughtful now, too. "I was actually going to suggest you hang around for a bit ..." Mac was giving him a look that said he thought he was crazy. "You should be under observation at least a day or two because …"

"Well, yeah, I figured you weren't going to just send me out into the wild unsupervised. Jack said you told him some of the compounds could stay active in my system for up to five days. But I'm awake, not off my rocker at the moment, and planning to be on the move in ten or less, so the IV has obviously gotta go." Jack came back in then, carrying Mac's backup duffle bag, a beat up beige thing that he'd had since the Army. Mac grinned at Jack, appreciating that he hadn't had to jump through any hoops with his partner this morning. "See? He's quick. Let's go," he said to Mel. "Please," he added, trying on a familiar charming smile.

"Mac, back up a sec," Steve frowned. "Explain to me how you taking off is you understanding you probably need medical supervision."

"I mean, Bozer and Beth are just support people, but Todd and Jack are good for mobile security, and then we have you for the …" He trailed off, then he ran a hand over his face, squinting again. They were looking at him like he had two heads. "Did I not say the part where we're all leaving together out loud? Like all of us, everybody associated with the team?"

"You really didn't," Mel chimed in, but started carefully removing his IV. She could see which way the winds were blowing.

He sighed. "Maybe I am still a little …" He sighed again. "Guys, listen, I'm not trying to just flake out of here. I mean I can understand why you'd …" His headache was not helping either his frustration or his articulation apparently. He deliberately slowed himself down, distilling what he needed them to know into the fewest words possible, since the more he talked, the less 'with it' he felt at the moment. "Okay. This is a critical security thing. If the Organization's people knew to hit us in the parking lot like that … _think about it_ … Phoenix has to have a mole."


	6. Chapter 6

Mac was doing his best to focus on the conversation in the suite, but between the drugs still in his system, his massive headache, and the amount of scrambling and traveling they'd done to get clear today (most of which he had taken the lead on, since he had been prepared for being without Phoenix resources at some point in his career since Amsterdam last year), he was ready to just give in to sleep. He was tired enough that when Jack had suggested Vegas, he hadn't even argued. He hated Vegas, but not as much as he hated the idea of driving far enough to come up with a better plan. And Jack had a point; it was a place where are large group of people could conceivably just get a suite together, pay cash, be as loud or as quiet as they wanted, and no one would bat an eye. Their crew wouldn't even stand out. He did look up when Riley came out of the largest bathroom off the main common area, where she had gone to place a video call to Matty from her personal laptop that she routed through seven different countries and hundreds of randomized servers. She looked a little shell shocked, but was also smiling slightly. Mac sat up straighter in the overstuffed chair he'd been herded into by Steve and Mel.

"How'd it go, Ri?" he asked.

Riley shrugged as she put her rig down on the nearest end table. "She's pissed. Like super pissed. But we haven't been disavowed, so that's something."

"What'd she say?" Jack wondered aloud, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"That she had already come to the same conclusion we did. That we didn't need to sneak out the back door. That she would have arranged a safe house for the whole team, and is still willing to do that if we, and I have to quote here, 'Get Mac and Jackass to stop this Sterling Archer clowning around crap'."

"We can't take that offer," Mac said firmly. "We have no idea who would find out where we were, or who's been compromised."

Riley raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, that's what I told her." Mac looked apologetic for a moment. Riley, if no one else, understood just how delicate information was in a very intricate way. She also understood just how easy information was to get the minute it existed in the digital world. She'd gotten rid of everyone's phones, tablets, and other assorted tech that could possibly be used to trace their movements in anyway within fifteen minutes of them leaving the LA city limits. Riley looked around. "She didn't like the implication that her personal staff could be compromised, but … she did acknowledge that a lot of them have been around since DXS and that before she came on, she didn't know them."

"Good," Mac nodded.

Todd frowned. "But we do need resources. We left with next to nothing." His tone suggested he thought that had been a bad idea, but that he had been unwilling to go against his team leader at the time of their departure.

Mac had a deep line across his forehead, and Jack couldn't tell if it was still the headache the drugs had left him with or if he was thinking. Jack was quick to hop to defend Mac's decision. "Well, we didn't have a lot of attractive options, at the time, Milton. If there's an Organization mole and they're targeting Mac, we're all at risk, too. We know they aren't above using people around their targets to get what they want."

Mac gave him a small smile. "It's not just that … We don't know their endgame. The contracts out for me, the implication that I'm somehow important could be simple misdirection."

"Mac, they've already …"

"I'm not saying I'm not a target. I'm pretty clearly on their agenda. I just don't think I'm the lead item the way Matty does, or even the way we've been assuming. Which means, you guys are at risk, too. I think … and maybe this is paranoia because – I think it's important that you know – I'm not feeling a hundred percent like myself at the moment … But I think they may be looking to bring down Phoenix altogether."

"They've never gone after us organizationally though, just individuals, even the invasion – of that's the word for it – was about Murdoc's vendetta with the ops team," Jack asserted.

"Was it?" Mac asked. "Nikki helping steal that bio weapon actually brought down DXS as it had always operated, and could have been bad enough to destroy it altogether if the virus had actually been deployed." He had everyone's full attention now. "The Chrysalis debacle could have brought down Phoenix, too."

"That was just about ops though," Riley frowned.

Mac nodded, then shook his head. "Without Ops, Phoenix becomes irrelevant. We're the guys you call when you can't call anybody else, right?" Everyone nodded. "Why?"

Jack gave a crooked smile, "Because we go out and get the job done, no matter what."

"And that's on the back of Ops. The rest of Phoenix exists to back us up, and maintain the overall cover of the organization. But if Ops is compromised, so, too, is the Phoenix."

Jack was nodding now. "Yeah. But why you? Why the team?"

Mac actually smiled, and then winced as the more exaggerated facial movement hurt his head. "Because, Jack, you and I are one of the most successful teams in the short history of the organization. We do the impossible. And half the time we don't even slow down long enough to get patched up or the damned bleeding to stop before we go out and do it again."

"You're right, Jack. The kid has a gift for understatement," Steve threw in, just to lighten the mood a little.

Mac chuckled, and Jack out and out laughed. Then Mac was serious again. "Then there's their fascination with biological to consider. I think we may have tumbled to what the Organization is really up to."

"Taking out Phoenix Ops?" Todd asked skeptically.

"No, taking down the clandestine wing of the entire intelligence community and potentially any government that officially sanctions them. Nikki has used the term 'failed state' more than once. I think she may have been told this was about me, but unwittingly coughed up why I'm a player."

That was a somewhat horrifying and sobering thought. But everyone in the room, with the exceptions of Mel and Riley, had spend their entire adult lives in government service in one form or another. And from the looks on their faces, the ex-military operatives in the room could tell, they were committed to the mission of preserving their organization, their government, and their country, as surely as anyone there who had done so in uniform. Riley was the first to speak after that conclusion.

"That still leaves us with the question of resources. How do we find the mole, go after the Organization, stop whatever they're trying to use you for, if we're just a bunch of people hanging in a cheap suite in Vegas?"

Mac massaged his forehead. "I hadn't really gotten that far yet. Thinking is still really difficult."

Steve looked at Mac with renewed concern. "Still seeing things?"

Mac thought about not answering, then admitted, "Every once in awhile." He paused. "Hearing things, too, I think. That should pass soon, right?"

Steve nodded. "Could take a few days. Like I told you before, you probably have a rough week in front of you. It's like that stuff was designed to put you out of commission."

Mac shrugged. "Could've been." Then he got the conversation back on his intended track; a not inconsiderable feat since he was currently hearing Pachabel's Cannon in D through only his left ear and he was once again seeing purple aura dancing around faces. "So, resources. We need someone outside Phoenix."

Todd immediately suggested, "What about the Coltons? They've helped us before."

Jack nodded. "I could reach out to Jessie."

"Any excuse to call Jessie, huh partner?" Mac smiled. Then he decided to ease off the teasing. He would not win a non-existent love life contest at the moment. "Do you have a way to get in touch that's under the radar?" He paused. "Since they helped us before they might be …"

"That was off the books completely, Mac. Remember?"

Mac took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Jack was right. They were a safe bet. But they were only going to be so much help. The team might need resources in the intelligence community. "What about Sarah?" he asked.

"You don't think the Coltons …" Todd began.

Mac interrupted. "No; they're a great idea. I'm … I'm doing the ' _not saying things I meant to say out loud_ ' thing again, I think. I was thinking we might need resources in the intelligence community, but anyone at Phoenix is out. And …"

"And I trust Sarah with my life. There's no compromising Sarah Adler," Jack finished. "Yeah. That's a good point, bud. I'll call her. Right after I shake Bozer out of bed to call Mama Colton. She's the one that's gotta give the go-ahead for their team to get involved and Mama would adopt Boze if she had the chance."

Mac nodded, then glanced at the clock. Eleven p.m. That was late enough for even the secret agents of the world to admit to being tired. "We can regroup in the morning. I'm gonna go try to sleep this off some more."

He got up, wincing with the movement. Steve stood as well. "Mac, you should let me …"

"Steve, no, c'mon. If you do your whole doctor-flashlight-thing I'm going to throw up. The light is killing me. You said yourself this stuff'll get out of my system eventually. I'm just not going to be a hundred percent on my game until it does. Which was probably the point. Sleep. That's all I want right now."

"Alright," Steve nodded.

Mel was giving him the look, the one Mac knew meant she was about a hot second away from going into total caregiver, badger-Mac-into-compliance, mode. "Are you sure you won't take something for the pain at least?"

Mac crossed the room as quickly as his headache would allow and put his handle on the doorknob of the room he and Jack were sharing. "I don't think adding anything else to the mix is the best idea." He paused and gave her a small smile. "But I really appreciate the concern."

Jack was grinning as he headed over to the room Bozer and Beth were sharing so he could get him to call Mama (which would hopefully involve waking the kid up and not interrupting anything; this was Vegas, after all). "Yeah, Mac, you go get some rest. 'Cause you know tomorrow we're probably headed right into …"

"Jack, don't," Mac practically begged.

"Danger zone!"

"Ugh, Jack … Why?" he groaned as he opened the door.

"Hey, Matty started the ' _Archer_ ' references."

"And you're going to continue them," he said with affectionate exasperation.

"You bet, Agent D ..."

"Jack!" he warned.

"Agent Duchess," Jack finished triumphantly.

Mac laughed a little, and the lines around his eyes smoothed for a moment, much to Jack's satisfaction. "Oh yeah, well if I'm Archer, I think that makes you … Woodhouse." And he disappeared into the bedroom, quickly closing the door behind himself.

Jack chuckled for a minute. Then he shook his head. "So now I'm the butler."


	7. Chapter 7

Todd came back to the suite after his 'jog' and dropped the newspaper from the dead drop on the table where Jack, Steve, and Riley were having coffee from the crappy little brewer in their room. He glanced around. Bozer and Beth must still be in bed, he thought. Jesus, it must be nice to have a friend who basically got you an early honeymoon. Of course it was by having a terrorist organization chasing him; but nothing like falling in shit and coming up smelling like a rose. He snickered to himself. He'd never worked much with lab folks before, but damned if he didn't just love those two about on sight. _Adorkable_ was the word Ri used and it fit to a T. They weren't letting this craziness get in the way of the life they'd started to build, and Todd, who simply didn't seem able to make work and relationships mesh, thought that was pretty amazing. Of course he was only thirty-six, so it's not like his life was over. He smiled to himself. Then he focused, knowing their team leader would want to know he was successful.

"Where's Mac?"

"Out getting breakfast for everybody with Mel," Jack said with an approving smile.

"Well, good. I thought he was gonna build a bomb out of tiny hotel shampoos this morning when you guys put the brakes on him being the retrieval guy again."

Jack looked both satisfied with the outcome and a little upset with his partner at the same time. "Yeah, well, he's not mission ready. And he knows it. I'm a little pissed that he pushed for it."

Steve put up a hand, slowing Jack down before Papa Bear went full throttle. "He's frustrated, stressed, and as bored as the rest of us … Strike that. He's Mac. He's two standard deviations above how bored the rest of us are." Jack chuckled at that. "He's not being reckless. You don't need to hover over him and piss him off, Jack." He raised an eyebrow and Jack just nodded. "You've got me to play the bad guy. The last two days he didn't even bat an eye. Today, I'm not surprised he pushed a little harder about it, but he's being sensible. When I said it wasn't medically a good idea, he nominated Todd."

Riley gave a rueful shake of her head. "I'm glad you guys said something to him before I had to. He insists it's not happening, but he's still hallucinating on a low grade level. I see him glancing at nothing every once in a while."

Steve nodded. "He's definitely still feeling a little rocky, not that he'll say so. I asked him how his head was this morning and he just kind of pretended he didn't hear me. Or at least I think he did; maybe he was listening to something else. We're on day four, so it's definitely improving but not as much as I'd like. Synthetics just behave differently. He's getting antsy about it though, worried. I can tell. I wish there was a way to run more labs, or even get the results to the samples we took just before we left, so I know what's going on. And then I could at least give him some kind of timeframe for feeling like himself."

"You couldn't just, I don't know, take some blood and have Riley hack an Amazon drone to send it back to Phoenix or something?" Todd asked.

Riley smiled at her teammate's confidence in her abilities. "That's not a half-bad idea, but they could download the flight history. Ideally, we could just walk into a hospital. But we know people are looking so … that's out. And we have no good way to contact Phoenix other than Matty directly."

Jack frowned now. "That seemed like it worked out okay. If it would help Doc here, hell, help Mac, why don't you ..?"

"I don't want to abuse that either. She still thinks this is the wrong way to go about things and I'm sure she's trying to figure out a way to bring us in."

Todd interjected, "You don't think Matty's dirty do you?"

"No way!" Jack said. "I've known Matty forever and I trust her like I trust Sarah. Well, maybe not exactly like … More, in some ways actually."

Riley agreed, and added, "I'm just afraid someone could have Trojan-horsed any of the files associated with the team, including those from Medical, so the minute I opened anything she sent, we'd pop right up on the mole's map."

Todd was reminded of his successful morning mission that had been disguised as a morning run in the outrageous Las Vegas heat. Didn't this damned place know next week was Christmas for pity's sake? Even LA knew when to take a break from baking its residents. "I don't know if it helps with that situation much, but I think we gained some mobility. The package was right where Frank said it would be when his contact came through."

Jack grabbed the newspaper and opened to the entertainment section. Complete identity packages, including back cards loaded with the cash Jack had wired to the Coltons, were sealed in plastic for Jack, Mac, Todd, and Riley, all the mission active agents. Even the support team had passable ID and credentials to be effective. He hoped whomever the Coltons had hired to do the drop was as trustworthy as they believed. "Excellent!" Jack beamed. "Now we can get some real work done. And maybe find a backdoor to getting some support from Phoenix."

When Mac and Mel came back with huge bags of bagels and stacked trays of large coffees, all of Jack's earlier irritation with his partner evaporated. Instead of tense squinting Mac, was smiling normal Mac. He kicked off his shoes, grabbed a coffee and a wax paper wrapped poppy seed bagel that was dripping butter, and flopped down on the couch, putting his sock-covered feet up on the coffee table. The rest of the crew started noisily grabbing breakfast and spreading out over the common area when Mac realized Milton was back. Mouth full of bagel, he asked, "Any luck?"

Todd grabbed a bagel and coffee of his own in one hand and held up Mac's new ID in the other. "Jackpot even. Coltons' local gal finally came through."

Mac grinned around his coffee cup. "Maybe I've been all wrong about Vegas."

0-0-0

The two men walked smoothly into the tall building, never even breaking stride, just holding up their security passes and breezing past the guards like they belonged there. As they walked across the lobby, Jack straightened his tie. Mac was scanning the area for the bank of elevators, but noticed and reached out to absently pat his partner on the shoulder. "You look fine, Jack. And you do remember she's married, right?"

Jack threw a glare Mac's way. "'Course I do, ya brat … Just you know how it is with ex's."

Mac puffed out a rueful chuckle. "I actually sort of wish I did. I only have a couple of actual exes, and one of them hardly counts since we only dated briefly in high school, and the other is in full lockdown in a government run black site in the psychiatric wing … So, my baggage with exes isn't exactly your average … All in all I'd say I'd rather be worried about the cut of my suit."

The elevator doors opened and a number of serious looking suit-clad men and women stepped out, leaving the spacious box open. When they stepped on, Jack continued, "What about those lovely ladies from your days back in digital camo? You occasionally proved you knew there were curves under those uniforms from time to time."

Mac glanced at Jack. "A fling on leave doesn't count as a relationship, Jack. The only one who came close … Shit, I didn't even know Dezi's first name. It's hard to look a woman up after the fact if all you've got is Desmond, Specialist, twenty-something, pretty silvery eyes, likes tequila. And if she'd been all that interested she could've looked _me_ up. You guys went out of your way to make sure she knew _my_ first name. Bastards."

When the elevator jerked into motion, Mac put his hand on the railing that ran all the way around the interior and closed his eyes for a second. Jack stepped closer. "You okay Mac? How's your head?"

Mac opened his eyes and gave Jack a small, reassuring smile. "It's fine, Jack." Jack just raised an eyebrow. "Honestly. If it wasn't I would've let Todd or Steve come with you today."

"See, I'm gonna call bullshit on that last part at a minimum. You're the only one who knows what seeing Sarah is like for me now. And I think you'd belly crawl naked over broken glass to spare me looking in her face in front of the other guys."

Mac glanced away; he guessed his affection and loyalty were as transparent as Jack's. "Yeah, well, maybe. But I'm really alright this morning. Just …" he hesitated and then decided the truth would probably make Jack less rather than more worried at the moment. "Every once in a while, I can tell I'm still a little off, you know? A motion, or light, or color, or sound, or even smell a couple of times is just … off … And it reminds me that they got one over on me more than anything else. But the headache is finally gone. I swear."

As they stepped off the elevator, Jack smiled and patted Mac on the shoulder, just to communicate that he believed his partner. He and their medical staff had been fussing over that headache a fair amount and Mac had promised last night that if it wasn't better in a day or two he'd risk using the false identity the Colton's forgery expert had arranged and go to the emergency room. But … only if they left him alone about it for five minutes. Mac was walking a little ahead of Jack and got to the door they were looking for first. He glanced back to make sure Jack hadn't just run off back down to the lobby and knocked. A distracted, "Come in," was followed by them filing into the office of Agent Sarah Adler, currently of the Austin field office. She was on the phone facing the window, finishing up what sounded like a somewhat heated argument, but she waved over her shoulder for them to have a seat. When she hung up and turned around, Jack was glad he was sitting.

"Good morning, guys," she gave a reserved smile, knowing exactly what she was in for.

"Uh … um … I … Sarah …"

"Congratulations!" Mac said with an appropriate amount of enthusiasm. "I guess when you said you didn't know how long you'd be able to help, this is what you meant."

Sarah rested her hand on her not inconsiderable baby bump, giving the younger agent a genuine smile. "I am retiring from field work … oh, in a month or so, I expect; officially. Unofficially, I already have. Hopefully I can be of some help to you boys and your team regardless."

Jack finally found his voice. "I … congratulations. I had a second where I was real surprised there, Agent Adler."

"No more than I did when I found out he was on his way."

"He?" Jack asked with genuine interest.

"So I'm told, although since it's a little Texan, I imagine this baby will just keep on surprisin' people the way he has his Mama since the beginning."

Jack voice was warm with fondness. "You sound of home again, Sarah."

"You never stopped." She gave him a smile. "It's nice to be home again. I think we'll probably stay, me and this little guy." Moving on from personal matters, she paused and picked up a folder off her desk. "This is what I've been able to put together about those contracts out on Mac, Thornton going dark again, and Murdoc. I've also …"

Completely distracted, Jack asked, "You and the little guy … but not ..?"

She met Jack's eye for almost a full silent minute. Then she directed her gaze at Jack's partner. "Mac, do you mind of Jack and I go take a short walk?"

"Not at all," Mac was quick to answer, glancing at Jack and feeling more than a little amused that Jack's mission-ready demeanor had partially collapsed due to the implication that his ex was suddenly single, and experienced a very attractive alteration to her usually slim figure.

"Can I get you anything from the break room?" Sarah asked pleasantly, knowing exactly what kind of week Mac had been having.

He smiled in return. "No thanks, Sarah. I'm all set."

"He'll have a water. He's supposed to be staying hydrated."

Mac rolled his eyes and Jack was relieved that there was no wince that came with it today. "Yes, Dad," he agreed sarcastically.

0-0-0

When Jack and Sarah came back awhile later, walking more slowly, and smiling a bit more than when they'd left, but for all of that looking relatively subdued, they found Mac leaning over Sarah's desk, moving papers around, the file she'd shown them open in front of him.

"I'm guessin' print is makin' sense to you again," Jack drawled, clearly pleased to see it.

Mac glanced up, frowning. "Yeah, but the intel's not."

Sarah stepped next to him and looked over his shoulder. "How so?"

"It's the other stuff you collated … This looks like the Agency has continued to suspect issues at the Phoenix since that first breach when we were still DXS."

Now Jack was standing on Mac's other side. "Really?"

Sarah nodded. "I was going to bring that up before we got sidetracked. When I started really digging, it became apparent that one or more members of Oversight were wary. So some data collection and analysis has been ongoing. Nothing more than that."

Mac was frowning, looking at timelines, diagrams, maps, but didn't say anything.

Sarah went on. "It appears every time the detention site has been accessed there has been activity the computer has flagged as suspicious. And there was a significant amount of it, prior to Murdoc's escape. More recently there has been activity that I am concerned might be connected to your inmate Jason Tennant, also known as Dr. Milton Zito."

"Does anyone at Phoenix know?" Mac asked, the lines of his face deepening.

Sarah nodded. "Matty and I have been communicating off the books since you got in touch with me and I started digging. As you can imagine she's furious. Although I think I may have gotten you out of some of the hot water you might have been in otherwise. But I still owe you a couple, so I'm not even gonna make you buy me lunch."

Mac stepped away from Sarah's desk and sat down hard in one of the guest chairs in front of it. Loosening his tie and running his fingers over his lip in the way he did when he was thinking deeply, or nervous, and found himself without paperclips or something else to fidget with.

Jack sat down and turned his chair to face him. "Whatcha thinkin', partner?"

Mac glanced at Jack and Sarah both. "This just gets worse and worse, the more we unpack it."

"Go on, Mac," Sarah prompted.

"If it's someone accessing the detention facility or contacting staff there, but there're also leaks from within Phoenix's central office and it's not identifiable by staff logs or anything else, and it must not be if the algorithm your using hasn't … There're only three possibilities about where the leak is coming from. Agents are tracked too closely and the lab and other support staff simply don't have the access. And it's no one in tech; because their tracks would be covered better than this. It doesn't take a Riley to get rid of phone logs or emails, just someone who half knows what they're doing. It's either Oversight, a department head, or an administrative staff member."

He paused. Jack said, "It's not Matty."

Sarah agreed. "You can rule that out, for sure."

Mac nodded, slowly. "But it's bad. Could bring down everything. And Matty isn't going to be able to help us if it's as deep as it looks here."

"What are you thinkin' our next moves are, bud?"

Jack knew the look. Deep in thought and ten steps ahead. But Mac surprised him.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, we're officially on our own."


	8. Chapter 8

The ride back to the motel was reasonably quiet, and for that Mac was grateful. He had a head full of new, and not particularly encouraging, information and he didn't think he could keep up much in the way of a conversation anyway. Jack, for his part, was thinking over his talk with Sarah, as well as mulling over what was in front of them with the mole at Phoenix, and once that was sorted out, the people coming after Mac. And he was trying to give the mission his full attention, but … it was Sarah … so he wasn't all that successful. He didn't realize it, but he sighed heavily. Mac glanced his way, not sure he should say anything (reading people was, after all, something Jack was much better at than him)but also pretty sure Jack needed to talk but wouldn't ask for the understanding ear on his own. Already knowing the answer, he asked, "What's the matter, Jack?"

"Me? Nothin'," he asserted.

"It's a good thing you're not the spy, man, because that was unconvincing as hell."

Jack looked his way for a second, then back at the road. "Well, Sarah …" he started and stopped in one half-breath.

"Yeah," Mac's eyebrows went up. "That seemed like kind of a big deal." He didn't want to push, but when Jack stayed quiet, clenching his jaw like he was nervous, Mac went on. "If you don't mind my asking, what was the walk all about?"

"Well," Jack began, and then held his breath for a minute. Goddamned this was a confusing situation to be facing when they were already in the middle of what felt like one of those 3-D hidden picture optical illusions, only no matter how hard any of them stared, the hidden image didn't pop out at them. "So, Sarah's havin' her baby soon. And she's been in the Austin field office near her family for awhile, while … Jeff," Mac grinned a little when Jack forced himself to use the man's actual name. "Jeff has been in the field, working out of New York. And I guess … Well, Sarah wants to stay in Texas, give up the life, at least the fieldwork side of it … And Jeff, just … well, he wanted kids, but he thought they could have their cake and eat it too, I guess. Ot at least that's what came out when it got down to brass tacks."

At that point, Mac's jaw tightened. Reminded him of another clandestine operative who never figured out that that wasn't how parenthood worked. Mac stopped himself from following that particular train of thought down a familiar dark tunnel. He had done all the yelling he'd saved up from a frustrating lonely childhood before his dad moved back east, and at first Jim had tried to justify his actions, his job, but then he realized that from Mac's perspective there was no valid justification to not be there for people who loved you, to ever put the job in front of family. And after a few weeks of awkward phone calls, and a brief gut-wrenchingly emotional one at Thanksgiving, Mac had realized that he didn't need to understand or even forgive his father's actions, since they were in the past. He could have a relationship now, distant though it was, and that would do, for both of them. However, he vowed that would never happen to a child of his, and he was inexplicably angry at Sarah's husband on behalf of a child who wasn't even born yet. Finally he offered, "But you can't. And Sarah knows it."

Jack knew what was behind Mac's slightly forceful tone, but he let it go. "Damn right. So she's plannin' on staying right here in Austin near her family, and Jeff … Well, anyway, they're separated." Mac's eyebrows climbed again. "She didn't want to say anything, but she felt like she slipped and … she said she felt like I should know. She's hoping once he meets the baby, he'll change his mind, and they can get back together, but …"

"But if for some reason they don't, you can't help thinking you wouldn't much mind changing a few diapers way back in the great state of Texas?" Mac asked gently.

"I guess so, yeah. I shouldn't even be thinkin' like that, but …"

"But she's Sarah," Mac finished.

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "I don't necessarily know how I'd handle being a dad to someone else's kid … but I can't help wondering a little, I guess."

Mac glanced at Jack, then out the window quickly. "I don't think you should get your hopes up … but I'm sure you'd be great."

Despite everything, including the tumultuous emotions that had surfaced so quickly it was like popping the cork on a shaken champagne bottle, Jack felt a smile tug the corner of his lips. As Jack pulled into the motel parking lot and put the car in park he squinted at Mac. "Your head hurtin' again, bud?"

Mac shook his head with a wry smile, "No, it's good Jack. I'm just thinking about everything … About how to tell them … About what to do next." Mac squinted in a way that for a second made Jack think he'd been maybe not a hundred percent honest about his head, when Mac groaned. "There's almost no way we're home by next weekend."

"Well, aren't you ever the optimist ... What difference does it make anyway?"

"Jack … it's Christmas ... Steve has kids, Boze always goes home, and Beth was gonna go too, and I don't even know about Mel ..." He sighed. "You, Todd, and I … this is what we do, but half the people with us … Nobody else really signed on for this. You know?

"Ah, hell." Jack ran a hand over his short hair. "Now I'm gettin' a headache … Guess we better go in and get the ball rolling. Maybe we'll get another bona fide Christmas miracle."

"For a change, I'm not going to say there aren't any miracles. I'm just going to hope you're right."

"'Course I'm right. I'm always right." Mac snickered. "Well, I'm right about miracles anyway."

The two shared a relaxed laugh that somehow made the day they'd put in seem easier. They were thinking of having a beer and holding off on briefing the rest of the team until morning, when they'd had some time to think over what they'd learned, but when Mac opened the door to their room they both instinctively dropped back, Jack with his hand going for the concealed piece he carried in the small of his back. But after less than a second they processed that it was just Riley sitting on Jack's bed, the one, as always, closest to the door.

"Sorry to surprise you, but I didn't want to say anything in front of everyone else and get everyone's hopes up." She paused, "But, I think I may have found something."

0-0-0

Mac and Jack moved around the back of the warehouse toward the air exchange system, hugging the building in the event that the external security cameras had enough light from the illuminated lot across the street to pick them up. "You guys in position?" Todd asked quietly over the comm.

"In a sec," Mac answered. "This'll take a couple of minutes to set up. How's the side entry point shaping up?"

"No obvious problems. We're a go the minute you say the word."

There was the familiar crackle of Riley scrambling the signal on their comms so anybody who might be paying attention wouldn't detect their presence. Jack, as always, had a minute of pure pride in Riley's abilities. Who would ever have thought the kid who used to brick his phone the second he sat it down, just to prove she could, would have found a way to use those skills to save lives? Especially his, he chuckled to himself. Mac squatted down near the air intake and started removing jars from his bag, so he could do his 'Mac thing' as Jack always put it. Jack stood next to him, facing away to assess the area for any threats while Mac worked.

"Ugh, that stinks. Is that the stuff you were cookin' outta the bleach earlier?" he whispered.

"Yeah, it's potassium chlorate."

"Wait, isn't that an ingredient in explosives?"

"Yeah. I said so when I made everybody leave while I was rendering it, Jack," Mac was bordering on exasperated. Jack got annoyed when Mac just explained things, but if he didn't just explain things Jack started asking a million questions. He decided it was easier to talk while he worked and have Jack be the one irritated than to try to work through Jack's questions. "This jar is just ground charcoal from the grill behind the motel; and the third is naphthalene."

"Like 'the shit that's in napalm' naphthalene?"

Mac nodded without looking up. "Moth balls from the motel closet."

Jack was about to ask another question when copious amounts of black smoke started billowing from the container Mac had nabbed from the dumpster on their way by. Mac mentally counted to thirty before saying, "Now!"

Jack shot the lock off the back door and even through the ear ringing aftermath, they could here Todd and Steve breaching the side entrance and using Mac's improvised flashbang grenade, which was more or less just an illegal firework repackaged. Jack moved through the door first, weapon drawn and cleared the immediate area; Mac followed crouching as low as possible as he moved to keep out of the caustic chemical smoke. The sounds of a fight involving several people were apparent even over the noise of the intake fan. There was a clear, loud single gunshot, but it didn't connect with a human target; instead it sparked off the metal about three feet from Mac's head and he and Jack dropped lower, moving in the direction of the office Riley had found on the blueprints – the most likely location of any tech or documentation of what this group of presumed Organization operatives or contractors were up to.

They were nearly to the door of the office when it banged open and a lightning quick figure bulleted out and tackled Mac around the middle, plunging them into the worst of the smoke. The struggle was immediate and violent. Mac was stronger, more agile, and clearly better trained, but his adversary was like a badger caught in a trap. Mac could vaguely hear Jack shouting, trying to find him in the haze, but with the elbow currently digging into his solar plexus, he was unable to answer. They rolled again and the wiring man he was fighting managed to get a hand free and slam Mac's head into the pavement. Mac grunted as much in fury as in pain. He'd had about enough headaches caused by the Organization since getting grabbed last week and now he was in for another one, damn it. He brought a knee up with just as much focused force as he could given his position on the bottom of the tangle of limbs he was currently in and the other man wretched with the pain. Mac almost smiled. On the periphery of his senses, he was cognizant of the other noises of this small battle quieting. With the good hit he'd gotten in on the other guy, he was able to force another roll enough to get on top and pin the man's hands, just as someone hit the exhaust fan and cleared the smoke.

As soon as he air cleared, Mac sucked in his breath, as much from shock as from wanting some clean air in his lungs. Pinned beneath him was a face that was almost shockingly familiar. It was younger, softer than the one he knew. The man currently struggling to free himself was probably even younger than Mac, maybe as young as twenty, although his Celtic features made it difficult to tell, but the resemblance was almost eerie. Jack came up behind them just then, still coughing a little, but proffering some zipties to secure this suspect.

"Holy shit," he exclaimed, when the man's appearance struck him as well.

Mac accepted Jack's assistance in getting the man secured and shoved up against the nearest wall. The hazel eyes glared at both of them, his expression full of perfect disdain. Jack was grinning down at the man, anticipating an interrogation that might yield enough actionable intel to allow them to go home. He glanced at Mac. "Looks like Riley was right."

Mac nodded. "Maybe. Let's get everybody over here and we can get some questions answered."

The young man spat on the floor at Mac's feet. "I'm not telling you anything."

Even the voice, the accent, was a perfect echo.

Mac smiled, and Jack had never seen a look quite so hard, so chilling, on his friend's face. It spoke of a man tired of being on the ropes and willing to go to new lengths to get clear. "You don't have to talk to us just yet," he said coolly. "I can get us started."

The man shifted uncomfortably on the floor. "You don't know anything worth knowing, MacGyver."

Mac's expression changed to one of a scientist examining an interesting specimen on a slide. "Well, now I know that you know me on sight. So there's one question out of the way already. You and your associates are the people who accepted one of the free Organization contracts to deliver me to them."

The man flinched, knowing his sloppy remark did in fact confirm things for the agents standing over him. He resisted the urge to say more.

Mac's smile was back again, this time much more spare, lifting just one corner of his mouth. Jack just watched, intrigued by this side of his young friend. "And I know you took the contract after speaking with someone inside Phoenix's detention facility, someone who's obviously very close to you."

The man looked at the floor now, instead of glaring defiantly up at the agents.

"You were put in contact with that person by someone in the Director of Operations office. And the only thing I really want to know from you right now is who that was."

The man looked up again, his glare firmly back in place. "Piss off! I'm not telling you anything."

Mac glanced at Jack now. "He's all yours, man. I'm gonna go meet Riley at the front and we'll start combing through the office."

Jack just nodded and stepped toward their captive. As Mac walked away, the man called after him, "I'm not talking to you or your pet gorilla!"

Mac turned, the speculative scientist's expression back on his face. "Sure you will. Eventually. You'll tell my good friend there anything he wants to know," Mac paused for a second, really wanting to see the man's expression, "Mr. Tennant."

He was not disappointed.


	9. Chapter 9

The cramped little office still smelled vaguely of his improvised 'smoke screen' and, as Mac predicted when his head hit the floor earlier, he was starting to get a killer headache. He glanced up from the folder open on his lap. Jack was leaning against the door frame. "Hey, Jack. Any progress?"

Jack shrugged. "I think we're gettin' there. He's basically a kid … and not well trained, more just indoctrinated. Todd and I are playin' a little game of bad cop-worse cop at the moment."

Mac gave him a sideways smile. "Which one are you?"

Jack grinned, "You know, I forgot to ask." Mac chuckled, then squinted. Jack did not fail to notice. "That's a hell of an egg you got there, bud."

Mac hadn't realized it raised a visible bump. He reached up to touch it and flinched. "Damn, I guess it is." He shrugged. "At least it's not bleeding."

Jack shook his head and ducked out of the office. Mac went back to his reading. Less than five minutes later Jack was back with one of the instant ice packs from Steve's kit. Mac took it gratefully, and gently held it to his temple. "Thanks, Jack."

Riley hadn't even looked up through their exchange; she was too busy frowning at the laptop open on the file cabinet in front of her.

Jack figured it was almost time to go play … Worse cop; he'd be worse cop for sure … "How about you guys? Find anything?"

Mac shook his head. "Most of what they've got on paper is about the team; basically just how to take down each member of it." Mac swallowed. "An awful lot of what they think they know about me, too."

"Take down?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"As in get the drop on and execute. On sight. They want you alive, too, though. That's fun information isn't it?" Mac smiled wryly.

Jack shook his head. Considering the stash of the drug Mac had already put in a less than pleasant week because of and a variety of other things just lying around, Jack shuddered. "Yeah, Mac, I'm sure they just want to buy us dinner and extol the virtues of choosing to work for a terrorist organization." Jack rolled his eyes. "'I'm in a massive anti-government cult trying to acquire weapons of mass destruction; ask me how'."

Mac almost chuckled but Riley finally remembered there were other people in the room. "Um, guys." They both turned her way. "Whoever took the phone to Tennant … whoever it was …" Riley looked as though what she was about to say was caught in her throat and was physically painful to spit out.

"Yeah?" Jack prodded.

"They used Matty's key card for entry."

"You know what," Jack said, sounding for all the world like he was ready to snap. "I'm gonna go beat some answers outta that snarky little shit right now."

When Jack came back a while later, Mac was still squinting at the papers on his lap, but clearly not actually reading, and Riley had started just staring into space. They both looked up when he came back to the door way, their expressions a mix of hopefulness and trepidation.

He gave a short, sharp nod. "We need to get back to LA. Now. I'm gonna see if Sarah can get us a flight. I'm sure she'd wanna be read in on this. We'll video call so you can get the details too."

0-0-0

Matilda Webber sat stony faced while the interrogation took place. She barely acknowledged Oversight when they came through the door, and didn't even glance at them when they left to go about their business. When Jack and Mac walked into the room and sat down at the table across from her, she finally let the mask slip, just a little. Her eyes became too shiny for a moment, then she took a shuddering steadying breath.

Jack's face was concerned. "How you holdin' up, Matty?"

She shrugged, her nothing-really-gets-to-me demeanor back in place in a blink. "Did she confess?"

Mac nodded, but it seemed like his frown was deepening even as he spoke what sounded like good news. "Andi Lee is currently talking, what's that thing your mom says Jack? A blue streak?" Jack nodded with a small smile at his partner's efforts to make this conversation less clinical. Anyone could see, despite her cool façade, that Matty's world had been shaken. "She's talking a blue streak about what she's been up to for the Organization."

"Good," Matty nodded. "I just can't believe … She never even tripped my most paranoid radar."

Mac was probably the most sympathetic. "Betrayal is like that sometimes. She was your assistant. I slept next to a traitor more nights than I didn't for two years, Matty. And if Jack is any authority on the subject, we can't hold ourselves responsible for the actions of others or for just living our lives without magically finding what was going on beneath the surface."

Honestly, the fact that it was MacGyver, the agent with a brilliant mind who often completely missed the mark in reading people, especially her, who was trying to make her feel better instead of Jack, who just did that for everyone, was actually extremely comforting. She nodded, closing her eyes for a long second. "Thank you, Mac." She paused for a minute looking at the contemplative expression on his face. "You got everybody home safe, in time for Christmas no less, and you still look like something's wrong. Talk to me, Agent MacGyver." It was an order from a superior as much as it was an invitation from a friend.

Mac ran both hands through his already messy, travel rumpled hair. "Andi Lee …"

"Yes," she prompted.

"She was brilliant, careful, precise. She only ever displayed emotions any of us would read as appropriate."

"Yeah, well, good moles are like that," Jack shrugged.

Mac looked into his soft brown eyes, his own blue ones taking on a hard icy tinge. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Goddamnit," Jack swore, feeling, as he often did around Mac, like the slow kid in class. Sometimes he hated that because he knew he was sharp as a tack. Other times he loved it because it reminded him of how very, very bright his young friend happened to be. Today was one of those latter times.

Matty looked hard at Mac. That growing frown and how it was aging his face made more sense now. "You think they might still be in contact and he doesn't know?"

Mac swallowed hard. "Yeah … but I don't know if he'd know. I've got serious trust issues there but, I don't think he does."

Matty nodded. "Go. Call him. But, in case your trust issues are valid … do it from an office phone. Just in case."

Mac nodded and strode down the hall to his own office. Jack followed, but waited discreetly outside his partner's door.

Mac dialed the number and waited what felt like forever for the familiar voice to answer. He spoke their code phrase, the secure sign that this call was indeed from him and personal.

"Hey, Ang … Mac. It's a little early for a Merry Christmas. Don't tell me you've decided to take me up on my offer and come out for a proper New England holiday!"

The warmth Mac heard in the man's voice squeezed his heart for any number of reasons.

He answered softly, "No, Dad. I wish I could … Look … we need to talk."


	10. Chapter 10

When Jack wandered into the kitchen for a bottle of water around two the following morning, he was startled to notice Mac standing out on the deck, his pajama-clad figure illuminated not just from the moon above and the city below, but from the Christmas tree they'd decided to put outside in the corner opposite the pool. After the day they'd put in, Jack figured it couldn't hurt to check in, despite Mac's insistence earlier in the evening that everything was, quote, 'totally fine'. He purposely made a fair amount of noise moving through the living room so Mac would hear him coming. Mac glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Jack. Did I wake you up with my crashing around?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah; just got thirsty. Why were you crashing around?"

Mac grinned. "I realized with Boze and Beth gone up to Mission City to have Christmas with his folks, there wasn't going to be any sourdough cinnamon rolls for Christmas unless I made them and they need to ferment for a couple of days before you bake them … Once I thought of it …"

"You just had to make 'em. I get it." Jack waited for Mac to go on, but he just looked back out at the city. "The tree looks even better now that it's dark."

Mac chuckled. "You were right. It's still nice to have a tree even without Bozer around."

"See, I am occasionally right about things." Mac shook his head with a smile. "The paperclip garland is really elegant, too."

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to make decorations. Your clothespin reindeer are classy as hell, by the way."

"I'll have you know my Nana used to make those with all us kids. And they are the classiest homemade Christmas decoration there is."

Mac chuckled again. It sounded genuine enough, and even to Jack's well-trained eye, his partner looked relaxed. But if all was well, he didn't think there was a particularly good reason for Mac to be out here in the middle of the night.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, as though it were of no particular concern.

"Nah, man. I was sleeping fine. I just woke up to use the bathroom and remembered the damned cinnamon rolls. It looked so pretty out here with the tree lit and the moon, I just got sidetracked on my way back to bed."

That sounded like the truth. It also sounded very un-Mac. "You sure? I've never known you to 'sleep fine'; not really since we met, kid."

Mac ran a hand through his hair and tipped his head at the chairs around the fire pit. They sat down and Mac scooted his chair a little so he could face Jack. This was an eye-contact sort of conversation. "This is gonna sound really weird."

"Yeah, well a lotta what you say sounds weird to a big dummy like me, so lay it on me," Jack smiled.

Mac's face was screwed up as he tried to decide how to put this. "I know I'm a shitty sleeper. I have been since I was a kid … and the last six months or so have been a special kind of awful sleep-wise, like the whole sleepwalking thing, and whatever."

Jack couldn't disagree. "You've been going through a lot … moving past a lot."

Mac nodded. "So here's the weird part. Since those guys dosed me with … whatever the hell … I've been sleeping like a freaking rock. And sure, I've had a few bad dreams, but mostly … Mostly they've been really pleasant. That's bizarre, right?"

Jack shrugged. "Some of the stuff they gave you can change your brain, which I know you already know … Have you asked Steve if altered sleep patterns are a potential side effect?"

Mac grinned slightly and shook his head. "I've managed to avoid having him going into doc mode since my headache got better. I'm not inviting a relapse."

Jack chuckled. "Fair enough. And I guess it's not a bad thing, even if it is. I wonder though, if it isn't just where you're at now."

Mac raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What do you mean 'where I'm at'?"

Jack's face was thoughtful. "We got all worked up over the worst case scenario of the Organization actually grabbing you … and even drugged and roughed up, you not only bagged those bad guys and got yourself back-up, but you figured out there was a mole at Phoenix before you'd even gotten the stuff out of your system. Like the worst case scenario happened and you still broke the case, or at least an important part of it." Mac gave a small modest smile. "That's gotta be good for getting rid of at least the insecurity driven nightmares like you were having when the whole sleepwalking thing happened. And between therapy and just you put it all into practice, it's seemed like the stuff that used to wind you up has been doing it less and less."

"Yeah … that's a good point." Mac nodded; things had been getting easier and easier over the last six months or so. Some mornings felt so good, so normal, he felt like a different person. He shrugged in response to Jack's continued questioning look. "Anyway, it's nice to sleep like a regular person. Makes everything else a whole lot less stressful."

"That's good. I was a little worried after you talked with your dad, that, you know, you might have a rough time."

"Me, too," Mac admitted. Then, he shrugged. "He says Thornton hasn't been in contact with him. And he still doesn't believe that she is involved with the Organization, regardless of Andi Lee's involvement. He sounded truthful, well, maybe unguarded is a better word. And he agreed to talk to Matty and help if he can. I can't really ask for more than that." Mac paused. "And even if he's lying … I can't do anything about that. I called to warn him about Thornton not to get his help. Anything that happens from there is on him."

Jack smiled a little. The last few months had been their own kind of hell for Mac, and as a result for the people who cared about him, but obviously it had been worth it to go through that fire if he could be this level about the situation, about his dad, and about the fact that he wasn't responsible for the actions of others.

Mac yawned and got to his feet, stretching. "Seriously though; I'm heading back to bed. You want to go for a run in the morning or you want to just catch up on some sleep?"

"I'll run … But coffee first."

Mac grinned. "Of course. When do I ever leave the house before coffee?"

0-0-0

Mac was having the best Christmas he remembered having in a long time. It was easy to forget that everyone still had a security detail and their lives were still up in the air. The day started just with he and Jack exchanging gifts and hanging out in their sweats, drinking what Jack's mom referred to as holiday coffee (also known as sweetened strong coffee with lots of cream and whiskey in it). Jack was thrilled with the new boot knife Mac had found for him and Mac spent half the morning looking at all the extra little tools on the Swiss Army knife Jack had bought for him. He told Mac he thought that way he could leave his granddad's one at home and take the new one on missions. He'd nearly lost his knife so many times; Jack didn't want him to be without something so important to him, especially now that Harry was gone.

Mac thought his cinnamon rolls had come out even better than Bozer's and he planned on rubbing it in when he saw his friend again. He didn't have to wait too long since he and Jack were only about a third of the way to pleasantly festive from the Dalton family recipe coffee when Bozer video called them and the entire family, including their daughter-in-law-to-be broke into a boisterous version of _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_ the second he answered. Then they insisted on some virtual gift opening, since Mac had sent gifts along with Bozer. Bozer said they had a gift for him as well, and he opened it on camera so Mac could see. It was all the pieces for a self-sustaining aquarium that they thought he'd have fun setting up and watching it grow. Mac was grinning from ear to ear as he pictured the improvements he could make to it as well as what a nice addition it would make to the long wall in his bedroom.

After they ended the call, Mac asked Jack what he was grinning about. Jack shook his head. "I'm just picturing you, living in that house. They're all so …"

"Wonderful," Mac supplied. "But I know what you're thinking. They're all … kind of …" He groped for a word. "Big," was the one he settled on. "I mean personality-wise." Jack nodded. Mac went on. "Sometimes, I think some of that is more for my benefit. They always just tried to make things … better. They're great." Jack smiled again, nodding his head. He could understand the impulse. Sometimes he felt like he had to emote for he and his partner, just to remind the kid that's what people did. Mac gave an affectionate glance at the tablet, remembering the call, and others like it. "Dr. B isn't like that all the time. She's actually a lot more like me, most of the time. But holidays … holy God that woman loves holidays. You should see their house. It looks like that dumb movie you like so much with what's-his-name?"

Jack chuckled. "Chevy Chase. And it's dumb on purpose, Brainiac. All the _National Lampoon_ movies are."

Mac seriously felt like his face might crack. "I sort of wish Ri were here. She'd have loved seeing that. I wonder how she's doing."

Jack waved his phone at Mac. "She texted while you were chatting with Boze. She sends her love and says if her mom's new boyfriend makes one more bad joke or her mom makes one more passive aggressive comment about her job that we're either going to have to come rescue her or be prepared to bail her out."

"Aw, poor Ri. And here we are having a helluva good time."

Another coffee later and the doorbell rang. Mac's eyes went just a little wide as he glanced at Jack. "That's probably Mel," he admitted, just buzzed enough that his cheeks colored and there was nothing he could do about it. "She's gotta work tomorrow so she couldn't travel to her folks' for the holiday. I told her to come over for lunch. I forgot to mention it before."

"Nice," Jack said, then remembered that he, too, had extended an invitation. "Um, I told Matty she should stop by too. She's all on her own and …"

"That's great," Mac said with his hand on the doorknob. He barely had the door open when Mel threw herself into his arms, practically shouting "Merry Christmas!" The hug was somewhat inhibited by the grocery bag she had balanced on one hip, but Mac decided he didn't mind one bit. After she put the bag down, Jack got his own Christmas hug, although, he was amused to note that it wasn't nearly as enthusiastic a one as she'd given Mac. Of course, the clueless genius probably wouldn't notice or would chalk it up to holiday spirit.

She started taking things out of the grocery bag right away. "I hope you guys don't mind, but I brought stuff to make homemade eggnog. It's my grandma's recipe and I just don't feel like it's Christmas unless I get to have some and share it with friends!"

"I love eggnog," Jack grinned. "My Nana used to make the best …" Mel plunked a large bottle of bourbon down on the counter. Jack's grin grew. "I think my Nana and your Grandma mighta known each other."

While Mel made eggnog, or more accurately, tended bar, Mac laid out their lunch which was mostly just cold cuts, rolls, and some salads since neither he nor Jack was all that interested in a big Christmas dinner kind of spread – or at least they weren't interested enough to clean up after it. They did have some very good smoked pastrami that Bozer had very kindly prepared as their Christmas gift before he went out of town. After some lunch and a couple of what Jack said was just eggnog flavored bourbon and the decision had been made that Mel could crash in the spare room so she could enjoy the day however she chose, they all settled in on the couch to watch a Christmas movie.

"This isn't a Christmas movie," Mel protested as the opening credits began.

"'Course it is!" Jack defended.

"When you said … I thought you meant _It's a Wonderful Life_ … or _White Christmas_ … or …" Mel went on, with slight indignation.

Mac grinned from his spot in between them. "We can watch _It's a Wonderful Life_ next. But Jack and I always watch _Die Hard_ for Christmas. It's a tradition … How long, now, Jack?"

"First time was back in Bagram not too long after you joined me and the boys. That was … Seven years, now? Holy hell, I'm gettin' old."

Mac and Mel both laughed. Mel shook her head. "Far be it from me to get in the way of some weird soldiery tradition."

Before any of them could be immersed in the misadventures of Detective John McLane, the doorbell rang again. Not wanting to disrupt what was about two inches of couch space away from a snuggle, Jack got up. "That's probably Matty. I'll let her in and get her some eggnog. She's got a lotta catchin' up to do." Jack disappeared around the corner and after a minute, Mac heard Jack call out, "Um, Mac … Can you come here a minute?"

Mac raised an eyebrow, but drained his current eggnog, put the cup on a coaster, and headed for the door. Mel sat on the couch frowning. Jack sounded funny. After a silent minute, she decided to get up and see what was going on. What she found was Mac standing next to Jack in front of the open door looking somewhat bemused as his father was standing in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her filter already somewhat dampened by their drinks and by what had been, up to now, a very relaxed feeling to the day, she blurted, "Well, Daddy Mac, what the hell are you doing here?"

Jack grinned like she just captured what he was thinking perfectly. He really did like the hell out of that woman. James shifted again. "I … I'm sorry I didn't call first. And I'm sorry to just show up on the holiday."

"No, Dad, that's fine … I mean, Merry Christmas, come in." Mac stepped aside.

His father hesitated. "This isn't precisely a social call, although … that would be lovely," he admitted.

Mac's posture changed subtly and Jack felt it, dropping back a bit himself. "So what is it?" Jack asked for his friend.

"After we spoke … I decided to put some feelers out … Nothing active, mind you. I'm done with that life, I promise you." He sounded a little defensive, but he did meet Mac's eyes that time.

"Okay?" Mac said, definitely more prompting that declaring.

"And, I think we might be able to break this case."

"We?" Mac asked carefully.

Patricia stepped into view. "I think I may know who is calling the shots at the very top of the Organization."

"I … Um …" Mac just swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Come in. Both of you. Before one of the security guys recognizes you and this gets complicated."


	11. Chapter 11

Patricia Thornton sat in the arm chair facing the deck, managing to make it look like a throne. James sat off to the side on the edge of the smaller sofa. Jack stood behind the large sofa with his arms folded over his chest, his jaw tightening more by the second. Mel, feeling the tension crackling in the air, excused herself to go to her car, saying she'd be back shortly. Mac, tried sitting facing Thornton and his father, but found after a moment that he simply couldn't tolerate sitting, so instead of trying to force himself, he stood. He looked first at his father, who he couldn't help but think looked absolutely subordinate to Thornton. Funny sort of impression for a man who supposedly recruited her to give, Mac thought absently. Unable to think of anything else to say, Mac simply opened his hands in an invitation.

"Explain."

James glanced at Patricia and she lowered her eyelids, a regal almost nod. As his father opened his mouth to speak, Mac was vaguely aware of Jack uncrossing his arms and taking out his phone, either to answer or send a text. Finally, James found his voice. "After you called me, to warn me … I couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't believe it could really have been Patricia who recruited Andi Lee for the Organization."

Mac's eyes flicked to Thornton. His voice was hard. "Ms. Lee was Thornton's personal assistant. Hired and given security clearance by her five years ago."

"Mac, I've known Patricia since you were a child. She worked for me … she …"

"She keeps being caught up in suspicious activity. And while where there isn't always necessarily fire where you find smoke, if you see it in your house, you better go looking," Mac snapped.

James looked away. Mac had a point … but … he couldn't accept that. "Mac, just hear her out. When I was worried you might be going after the wrong mark, I placed a want ad. One we used to use, a long time ago, to tell the other it was time to come in, and within a day, she called me … And … you just need to hear what she has to say."

Mac's eyes narrowed, but he gave a curt nod. "Fine. I'll hear you out. But the first thing I want to know is how you just breezed in here past my security."

James cleared his throat. "I, um, went through your pre-screeners …" he trailed off, glancing at Patricia.

Patricia gave Mac a sly smile. "I wasn't known as the most successful clandestine operative in U.S. history for nothing, Mac."

Mac nearly gave an involuntary shiver, bothered by that smile for some reason. And he could hear Jack's grumbling under his breath from across the room. Security was going to get the ass chewing of a life time. Mac thought, for just a second, that for a change he might want to do some chewing of his own.

"And you thought it was acceptable to violate my security to pass on this information instead of calling Director Webber?"

James was looking up at Mac, a curious expression on his face. Patricia had assured him that this was the best way to proceed, knowing Mac like she did, and he'd agreed, thinking that she was probably right, there was a certain tentativeness to Mac in the presence of people he seemed to consider authority figures. Patricia was accustomed to being one of those. She was also used to a Mac who regularly, willfully, bypassed protocol for expedience and effectiveness. But whatever had happened since autumn had clearly broken that spell somewhat. James glanced at Patricia and saw she was unfazed by Mac's apparent lack of appropriate deference.

"Since it's your freedom on the line, I thought you deserved to hear the unvarnished story," Patricia replied smoothly.

"My freedom?" he asked carefully.

"Well, certainly, you've drawn the appropriate conclusion by now," Patricia said, the barest hint of condescension in her voice.

Mac gave her a tight smile. Jack nearly smirked at the almost imperceptible narrowing of their former boss's eyes. It was strange. Jack had always liked Patty, but now he felt like they were in a corner facing down an angry cobra. Something was obviously tripping Mac's spidey senses too, because he just said coolly, "Why don't you enlighten me?"

"You've seen the analysis of the chemical they designed to drug you with, I'm sure. Their plans to keep you and Jack both alive. The drug is very similar to what the Agency experimented with in the 70's for …"

"Brainwashing," Jack finished. There was cold fury in his tone.

Mac glanced at Jack, who nodded imperceptibly to anyone else who might have been looking for it. Satisfied that they weren't on their own in uncharted waters here, he sat on the arm of the couch furthest away from his father and former boss. "Okay. I'm listening."

Patricia shifted position gracefully and pinned Mac with her liquid dark eyes. "This has been building for a long time."

Mac simply nodded, waiting for her to go on. Not offering anything of himself. Not yet.

"When I met your father, I was still in college. My fiancé was involved in something dark, dangerous, and it got both of us into a great deal of trouble. James saved my life the night it all came to a head. But my fiancé died in the resulting warehouse fire. Or so I was led to believe."

Jack mostly watched Mac as Patricia unfolded a tale of deception and intrigue, one that had the Organization shadowing her every move, made them hyper-attentive to the people she showed an interest in, cared about. It was all down to her not-actually-dead fiancé who suspected her and James of having an affair, which James jumped in indignantly to protest. Mac could tell his father hadn't been privy to that facet of the story and the idea that he would have cheated on Ellie, or even cheapened her memory by being with someone in a committed relationship offended his honor-driven sensibilities. Jack finally felt a true stab of affection for the man. And he thought with an internal smile that he sometimes found Mac's sensibilities to be old-fashioned for someone so young, but having met Harry and now getting to know James, it made a lot more sense than it used to. The slight wrinkle of Mac's nose told Jack that his young friend smelled bullshit. In fact, the crease in his father's brow said that upon this hearing of Patricia's story, he wasn't as enthralled as he had been when she contacted him back east.

There were a few moments of silence as Patricia trailed off, looking quizzically at Mac, as though she wasn't sure why he looked so skeptical. Mac closed his eyes for a moment, like he was listening to something. He looked at Patricia, getting slowly to his feet and crossing his arms. He asked, as though he genuinely hadn't already drawn his own conclusions, "So how do you suppose they got such detailed files on all of us … such ammunition?"

"Well," Patricia said, one corner of her mouth quirking up, as though she found his confusion charming. "Andi Lee undoubtedly …"

"Didn't have the clearance to get into our personal and medical files, nor could she have tapped into Phoenix's agent database and gotten the Organization into things like my therapist's files. That was supposedly a failing of cyber-security but Riley says no. That breach had help."

"Well, I'm sure I don't," Patricia began.

Mac's eyes flicked to Jack, hoping his partner was as prepared here at home as he always was everywhere else. "I'm sure you do. Just like I'm sure you've known your fiancé didn't die for a long time. And like I'm sure you've been stringing my dad to keep him out in the cold for over a decade. And like I'm sure you're furious that he came in, and we've got your number."

Mac's voice had gained heat as he spoke. And Patricia had a second where she couldn't believe this … child – for that was what he was in the spy game, a fledgling agent who was much more talented and intelligent than his age could explain … could have see through so much careful construction. She was so overwhelmed by her own miscalculation that she missed Mac's eyes flicking to the space behind her. The events that followed took less than three seconds but, to everyone present, they seemed to draw out for ages. At Mac's challenge, Patricia had leapt to her feet, dipping down and drawing a small firearm from her ankle, in a smooth practiced motion. Matty and Mel had appeared from behind the partition where they had been hiding instantaneously shouting for their friends to look out, and Jack and James both dove at the players closest to them, one of them knocking a threat to the floor and one of them getting their friend out of the way of what would probably have been a fatal shot.

In the aftermath, Mac and Jack were picking themselves up off the floor as security streamed in through several entrances. Mel was suddenly at their sides, helping them both to the couch. Mac's ears were ringing and his head was smarting from its brief connection with the edge of the coffee table, but he was almost immediately trying to get to his feet to go over to where his father was peeling himself off the floor, assisting Matty in wrestling Patricia into handcuffs and speaking to the security detail that had, belatedly joined them.

Mel's hands were firmly on both his shoulders. "Hey. Sit. You hit your head. I saw it."

Mac frowned and attempted to shrug out of her grasp. "I'm fine. I need to …"

"Sit still and let me take a look at you, damn it!" she ordered hotly, peering into his eyes, and wishing she had her kit.

He glared up at her for a second. "Bossy and mean," he asserted, but even as he said it, he could feel a smile starting to tug at the edges of his lips.

Her grey eyes flashed. "Or maybe you're just stubborn and ridiculous and all I am is worried about someone I care about!"

The tone was so heated, so unclinical, it made Mac draw a surprised breath. "I … Sorry," he apologized, suddenly sincere. "I think I'm okay though … But … go ahead." He was suddenly still enough for her to look in his eyes and check his pupils. She pulled her keychain, which had a tiny flashlight attached to it, and flashed it in his face. He flinched, not from pain, or anything other than surprise, and then just forced himself to be still so she could evaluate him for a head injury. Her face relaxed after a minute. "I think you're okay. I don't have to ruin your Christmas any more than it already has been by dragging you into Medical."

Mac nearly bit his lip at his surprising feelings from seeing the relief in her eyes. "Well, that's good," he smiled up at her, holding eye contact for just a little longer than he normally did. "I was having a pretty great Christmas before they showed you, you know."

Jack finally whined, "So was I, but unlike my partner, I'm actually injured. She shot me!" he huffed.

Mel grinned at Mac as she got out of his way to go look Jack over. "Hey," she asked, "Do you guys keep a field kit here?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded. "Be right back." He jogged toward the spare room where Mel had already planned on sleeping to grad the decently stocked kit they kept for emergencies. He handed it off, with a sympathetic glance at his partner, and then he attended to what else was going on in the apartment. He focused in on Matty who was looking at his father seriously, but with a slight smile on her lips.

"James, I'm going to need you to go in and cooperate with questioning. I am hopeful that it will turn out to be a formality," Matty said crisply.

The elder MacGyver nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He half-looked at Mac as he realized his son had approached them. "I'm so sorry … I truly believed …"

Mac patted him on the arm. "It's okay, Dad." He paused. "You said she would break the case. And she did. Besides, nobody really got hurt."

"Hey! I'm not nobody!" Jack protested from the couch where Mel was using their kit to patch up his arm and spare him a Christmas trip to the infirmary. "Sssssst," he winced from her cleaning the slight bullet graze with alcohol. "Hot damn, Woman, be gentle!"

"I am gentle. You're just a big man baby!"

"I take it back," Mac actually smirked. "Jack got hurt. His feelings, mostly."

Now Jack grinned. "That's better!"

Mac smiled at his father. "Come back by when they cut you loose later? You can crash on the couch if you want, have some leftover eggnog, if Jack and Mel don't drink all the bourbon."

James nodded. "I'd like that ... I'm so sorry, Mac."

"Dad, I said it's fine. She let you believe she was your friend for decades. Of course you trusted her." He paused for a second, then pulled his dad into a brief hug. "Merry Christmas."

James smiled, and it got all the way to his dark eyes, crinkling the edges pleasantly. That was the man Mac remembered from all those early science experiments in the garage, those holidays, especially those Christmases when his mom was still with them. He felt his eyes misting over a bit and blinked several times and swallowed hard to drive the feeling back. He could see his father was thinking about the same things. James just gave him a nod. "Merry Christmas," he said in a quiet, slightly horse. voice and he turned to leave with Mike from the security detail.

Mac glanced at Matty. "Should I go in with them maybe?"

Matty was having none of that for Mac or his team this evening. "Tactical will take care of that." She raised her eyebrows, almost daring him to argue and try to take responsibility. Instead, Mac just shrugged his acquiescence. "We were going to have a little Christmas party and I don't mean to let my predecessor ruin the holiday." Matty waved her hand toward the door in a dismissive gesture. "Now I heard there is some truly phenomenal eggnog in here." Mac moved to go get it out of the refrigerator. "Oh, don't trouble yourself, Mac. I'll just take the stuff already on the counter. No ice."

Jack chuckled, then winced as Mel finished taping down the bandages on his upper arm. "Good choice, Matilda." They locked eyes for a second. "Thanks for comin' over. I don't think I've ever been happier to see ya."

She smiled back as Mac handed her a glass and she sat down next to Jack on the big couch as Mel got up and moved to throw odds and ends from bandaging him up into the nearby trash. "Thanks for having me. I hate a boring holiday. Speaking of … I didn't miss _Die Hard_ did I?"

Mel came back, giving Jack a grin, and sitting on the small sofa, where there was clearly only room for one more, and only barely that. "We got interrupted. But I guess we sort of got to have our own version of _Die Hard_ , live action-style."

Mac laughed more lightly than he would have expected from himself, and he set a tray of eggnog down on the coffee table, handed Mel and glass, took one for himself, and then, after a moment's consideration, sat down next to her. "We should start it from the beginning. Jack says it's bad luck to not watch it all the way through."

Jack grabbed the remote and his own cup of eggnog. If he already had too much alcohol in his system to take a pain pill for the bullet graze anyway, he was going for cowboy pain relief. "Oh hell, yeah. Let's get this holiday back on track."

As they watched the movie, Jack and Matty both stole occasional looks at Mac, wondering if he was really okay with everything that had happened. Both of them felt like he hadn't been able to catch a break in better than a year and a half, although his innate resiliency seemed to ideally armor him for that. About midway through the movie, they both noticed that Mel had twined her fingers with his and all he had done was edge slightly closer. They shared a smile. It had been a rough couple of hours, but there was something to be said for the forced honesty of a high stress situation. There really was. It didn't necessarily mean anything other than he appreciated having a friend close by after yet another stressful event in a long line of them. But then again, maybe it did. Matty's smile grew when instead of paying attention to his favorite movie, she noticed Jack was texting with someone and caught a glimpse of the picture thumbnail of his conversational companion. She wondered how much Sarah had revealed to Jack. She and Sarah had a long talk while the team was in Austin. She had a feeling life might be getting both more complicated and simpler in the coming months. And that was okay with her. She'd navigated stormier waters in her day.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N - Hey all. Here's a short little chapter; mostly fluff and some set up for what's coming next. I'm celebrating my most recent trip around the sun today so I thought a little self-indulgent fic was a good way to do that. Hope you enjoy. ~ J_

Mac decided that the whole work following him home thing had to stop. The Christmas incident with Thornton came with more paperwork than when Dodgson had nearly managed to kidnap him from there. He tossed a glare at the stack of forms he had to manually file and then threw one at his computer for good measure. He wondered briefly when Jack would be back from briefing the security detail on the new procedures Matty had come up with. At least when his partner was back they'd have an excuse to leave their desks for a few minutes, maybe hit the gym and do some sparring; anything to get away from the drudgery of the office side of the job. He picked a paperclip out of the bowl next to his keyboard and started unwinding it, not really thinking about what he was doing, just needing something to do with his hands that wasn't typing. He sighed.

At least some good things had come from Thornton's attempt at misdirection. The Organization was clearly furious, and their ire had made them more careless. Multiple leads had opened up. Matty and Sarah had arranged an interagency task force to work the case, so the investigation had become less compartmentalized, and while some argued that might make it easier to infiltrate or disrupt, others, Mac and Jack included, thought it was nice to spread the risk around a little bit. Jack certainly didn't seem to mind the necessity of regular video conferences with Sarah. Mac wasn't sure if he thought that would end well or badly for either of them, but he did think it would at least be an opportunity for some closure. And he had discovered closure was kind of important.

His dad hadn't stayed long after the Thornton incident, but they managed to recapture the good feelings they'd had back at Harry's cabin over the holiday weekend. They were certainly both still somewhat reserved, and Mac didn't think that would ever change. On some level Mac thought he'd always mistrust the man who had abandoned him at such a young age, and Mac thought that on some level James would always see Ellie in Mac's face and resent him because she was gone. Neither feeling was particularly rational and they both knew it, which would probably make having something like a pleasant relationship possible.

Mac sighed again and looked at his computer screen resentfully. Then he chuckled to himself. He'd just retyped the same sentence three times. He needed to get the hell out of the office for a little while or his productivity would be shot. He saved his progress, sent a short 'brb' text to Jack and was just getting to his feet to go grab something from the cafeteria when Mel stuck her head in his door. "Hey you. Still stuck at your desk, huh?"

He brushed his hair out of his eyes, "Stuck is the word. I'm starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel though. So I'm taking a break so I can focus enough to power through the rest of it this afternoon."

"Breaks are good," she grinned, pleased with her sense of timing. "Wanna grab some lunch with me and go eat up on the roof?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and pulled it on as he joined her in the hallway and they started walking toward the elevators. "Hey, I thought you worked the overnight. What're you still doing here?"

Mel shrugged. "Newbie to train. And Brian is great, but I'm the damned boss so on my head be it if she screws up royally. I wanted to hang until I was sure she had her feet under her."

Trainees were, in Mac's humble opinion, the bane of most professions, but you couldn't just abandon them. He was briefly glad he wasn't the boss in this department because then that would fall to him, too. "So what you're saying is stay away from Medical for a while?"

"Isn't that usually what you try to do anyway?" Mel chuckled. "Tracey's skills are fine, but she's got the bedside manner of a junkyard dog. All business, no compassion. Damned Navy nurses anyway."

"Don't let Steve hear you say that. He married one of them."

Mel grinned. "We'll get her trained up sooner rather than later in the way I expect my infirmary to be run." Mac smiled slightly. The docs could tell themselves whatever stories they wanted about who was in charge, but he'd known Mel long enough now to know who really kept things running smoothly. "Besides, once I took care of a couple discharges, the only admission we have at the moment is Peterson and I don't mind her being miserable to him. Guy just rubs me the wrong way."

Mac gave what could only be described as a mean little snicker as they stepped into the cafeteria.

"What?" she asked, intrigued. Mac was nice to everyone.

"He and his partner were real assholes to me when I started here. They've always kind of cheered for me to fall on my ass. I'm looking forward to that particular 'Ding dong the witch is dead' retirement party. And I don't hate the idea of your newbie grouching at him."

Mel snickered. The two of them grabbed sandwiches and fruit and some bottled water and headed up and out to the beautiful rooftop garden that the Foundation maintained. Green roofing was one of the 'think tank's' special projects. Mel sat down on the east facing bench, liking the view of the mountains in that direction, and hoping to maybe nudge the conversation around to taking a hike over the upcoming weekend if he wasn't working, since she was supposed to be off unless she got tapped for field work. She was pleased to notice that even though there was plenty of room on the bench, Mac chose to sit relatively close to her. She didn't know if their brief handholding at Christmas meant anything, but he certainly didn't seem to mind the proximity.

They ate for a few minutes in silence; finally, Mac broke it. "You working this weekend?"

"Not unless I get called out with you guys or Marcus's team. Why?"

"We haven't been hiking in ages. We should go if we're both off."

She found she actually blushed and looked away for a second. "Um, sure."

"What's the matter?" he asked. That man notices everything, she grumped to herself.

"I was going to suggest the same thing," she admitted. "That's why I sat here."

He took a drink out of his water bottle to give himself a minute to think. Jack was right. She was interested in him. As a friend, sure, which he'd obviously noticed all on his own, thank you very much, Jackass, but maybe as something else, too. He thought about it. No one knew better than Mac how emotionally vulnerable he'd spent the last six months or so feeling, and he wasn't ready to take any kind of leap. He realized he was totally okay with following this path where it was leading at the moment though. Mac grinned. "A good idea is a good idea."

She grinned back, her nose doing that involuntary almost irresistibly cute wrinkle, glad she hadn't just made their friendship awkward by admitting to a little maneuvering. She got out her phone and pulled up a site with all the local hiking trails listed with photos that she'd bookmarked. "The Falls were amazing the last time we went out. We'll have to try to outdo ourselves."

Mac agreed and leaned closer so he could see the pictures as she scrolled through them, seeing several places he hadn't been in a long time that he wouldn't mind revisiting and was about to point one out when his phone chimed from his jacket pocket, once with the bosses text tone and once with Jack's. He took it out. "We may have to rethink our timing," he said, clearly satisfied with the content of the texts he'd received.

Mel's phone chimed too. "Looks like I'm being read in as well. That means Matty is cooking up a field op already. I wonder what's up," she said as he stood and tossed the remnants of their lunch in the appropriate trash, recycling, and composting receptacles.

"Riley just got a hit with that new facial recognition software she's been working on. We may have tracked down Thornton's fiancé."

"As in the likely head of the Organization?"

Mac's eyes actually twinkled at the prospect. If he could put an end to this case his life could go back to normal and so could everyone else's.

"That's the one."


	13. Chapter 13

"You okay, Jack?" Mac asked quietly, noticing his partner checking his phone for perhaps the tenth time. It was hard to miss the blue glow of it in the dark of the surveillance van. But he didn't want to be too loud and involve Riley in the conversation.

Jack sighed and put his phone away, brushing a hand over his jaw thoughtfully, and realizing that he really needed a shave. "Yeah. Just kind worried about Sarah is all."

"I'm sure she's fine, Jack." Sarah seemed like the last person in the world anybody really had to worry about to Mac.

"She's awful early though, bud."

Mac shrugged. "Only four weeks. That's not even really early according to Mel. She says you're just flexing your Papa bear muscles."

Jack chuckled. "I get plenty of practice 'round here, I guess." He sighed. "I was there for most of my first nephew's birth … And … I don't like seein' people I care about hurtin' is all."

"Good thing you're not there then," Mac teased and then sort of regretted it. He knew what Jack needed to hear. "She's going to be fine, Jack and so's the baby. She hauled your sorry unconscious ass, what was it? Three-quarters of a mile? To exfil in Belarus with two bullet wounds of her own. Having a baby is probably a walk in the park for someone like Sarah."

Jack sighed, but after a minute he nodded. "She's always been tougher than me anyway."

Mac was trying to think of some further reassurance when their comms went active. Michaels, who was filling in for Todd said, "We've got some movement in the rear of the warehouse. Grey van, backed up to the doors. Four people that we can see. Anything on your end?"

"Negative," Mac replied.

Then Riley piped up, "There are at least nine of them. Or I should say there are nine cell phones in a cluster moving into the warehouse."

Jack quickly checked in with tactical. "Alright," he informed Mac and Riley. "We're gonna go in and see who we come up with."

Mac nodded and moved like he would get out of the van as well.

"No way, Mac. We talked about this. If we've found the Big Cheese him and his whole crew know you by sight."

"We did talk about this. They'll know you, too, Jack. We know their plans. That's why the whole rest of the team isn't in the field on this one. Matty's letting us in on this collar as a courtesy not because she thinks us being in the field is a great idea. We were supposed to just be eyes and transport."

Jack grinned. "Which is why I'm goin' in without a face." He pulled out a black ski mask, commonly used for these sorts of missions for true anonymity.

Mac shook his head. "Matty's gonna be pissed."

Jack almost didn't want to admit it, but he felt like he had to. "I talked to Matty before we left. She green lit me." Mac's eyes widened with real irritation. "Who's a better shot than me, Mac? And who's better at makin' the call about taking a kill shot or preserving a package?"

Mac huffed a sigh. Cornered by Jack's tactical excellence. "Well, who's better and saving your backside when your marksmanship fails and shit goes south?"

Jack flashed another grin. "That's always you, brother." He pulled the mask on. "But it's a no-go from the boss lady. I'm silencing the comms with you guys until it's over. It's all gonna be yellin' and shootin' anyway, but it shouldn't take long. You and Ri stay put until I give the all clear."

Mac briefly considered just muscling past Jack and making it clear that he was going in if his partner was, but he thought better of it. He'd finally gained Matty's complete trust and confidence and they were so close to putting an end to all this Organization crap. If they could take off the head, the rest of the beast would be easy to pick apart. He looked long and hard into Jack's dark eyes, the only part of his partner's face he could see. He nodded once. "Okay. We'll lock up behind you and wait for your word."

Jack patted Mac on the shoulder before he exited the van. When he was out on the pavement he waited to hear the locking mechanism engage from the inside before he went to join the rest of the tactical unit converging in dark silence on the building. He saw the biohazard crew coming from the west and knew Matty was prepared to find just about anything in this building. He didn't think there'd be any messing around and putting things in cold storage this time. He suspected if Dimitri Gorsov (the real identity of Patty's one-time fiancé who'd gone by the name of Pete Gregory back then) had any bioweapons in that building, he and Mac would be taking another unpleasant cold trip north to dispose of them, or perhaps he could talk Matty into throwing them into a volcano in Hawaii. Yeah, that was a better plan than a crevasse in Siberia for sure. Now, Gorsov, well, he'd happy chuck that bastard into a pit in Satan's own freezer. But that could be dealt with months or years from now when Phoenix had squeezed every last drip of knowledge dry from the guy's evil America-hating, Mac-tormenting brain. He caught Michaels' eye and they silently prepared to go inside.

Back in the van, Mac was fidgeting restlessly with several paperclips. Riley looked over his shoulder. "A leash, huh?"

He took a deep breath. "I've felt like I've been on one since all this garbage about the Organization having some special agenda where I'm concerned started." He paused. "I hate it." He didn't care for the sound of his voice just then. He shrugged it off. "I'm just whining, Ri. Ignore me."

"It's not whining, Mac," she offered in sympathy. "I hate having a detail and stuff too and I'm not even really a fully trained agent yet. You and Jack have been doing your thing for years now and to suddenly have all these extra people around, be excluded from certain missions, be flat out grounded sometimes … It's gotta suck."

"Yeah. Hopefully we're almost out of the worst of it though. If we take out the people at the top, chase the money, nobody should be able to pay out on contracts and we should be able to find their people more easily. Then I can go back to just Jack being insanely over-protective of me and not a whole damned team."

She laughed at that. Jack counted as a whole team when he went into full on Papa Jack mode, she was pretty sure. He'd always been like that though. Even with her when she was a kid. It's partly why he fought with her father. And Mac … well, Mac was Jack's family, the same way his brothers and sisters back home were. More than that even. Something that went beyond the blood of genetics and was tied to the blood they'd both shed and spilt together. She didn't like not having Jack's comm live so she was watching the tech signals on her laptop; the comm signatures, people's cell phones. It looked like Phoenix had the Organization guys backed into a corner. Then, suddenly, her screen went blank.

"Mac …" He turned to face her in what he and Jack liked to jokingly call her tech den.

"Yeah."

"I've lost the signal."

"Jack's?"

"All of them."

From outside they could now hear gunfire and, in the distance, shouting. Mac's hand was on the handle to disengage the lock.

"Mac, don't. You'll just piss off Jack and get in trouble with Matty. I'm sure it's a technical problem on my end," she said with confidence she didn't feel. Her fingers clicked away, too fast to see, in an effort to get a visual representation of their team and the bad guys back on the screen.

"Anything?"

She just shook her head as she continued to work. Mac was straining to see through the darkness to the building Jack and the rest of tactical had gone into. There were a few muzzle flashes that he could make out flaring to life in the dark around the other side of the building, but that was all. He started to get jittery, like he'd gunned an entire pot of coffee too quickly. He wasn't used to being sidelined and it was driving him crazy. He just wanted to be back in action, and honestly, right now, he wanted desperately to have his partner's back. After a few minutes, everything went almost eerily silent. The comms remained dead.

Mac tried every channel the comm's were capable of broadcasting on now. "Jack? Jack?" Nothing. Then he tried the communicate with the War Room. "Matty. Matty, we've lost communications with the tac team." More nothing.

He glanced at Riley, who was still working diligently to restore communications or at least to figure out what had happened to them. "Try a text?" she suggested.

Mac did. 'Failed to Send' in the annoying red bubble. "I'm going out there."

"Mac, you don't know what's going on. What are you gonna do out there blind and without backup or even the ability to call anybody in?"

"You keep working on the comms so we can call for backup. And I'll do what I always do."

"Improvise," the said together. Strangely it made both feel better.

"You lock up behind me, or Jack really will kick my ass."

"Okay," she nodded. "Are you still ..?" she began.

"Of course," he nodded, reading her expression.

"Okay. I guess. Be careful." She didn't like this total-lack-of-plan, but it really didn't feel like they had other options now.

As soon as Mac was out of the van, Riley engaged the locks. There was a faint buzz of encouraging static in her ear and she doubled down on her technical efforts. She nearly jumped out of her skin a few seconds later when something hit the van with tech-rattling force. There was a shout that even through the thick walls and bullet-proof glass of the van she knew was Mac's. After another moment, the van was peppered with gunfire, and bullet-proof or not, Riley did the smart thing and got down on the floor. Her ears were ringing and it was like she could still feel the impact of the bullets when she got up several seconds later. After a second she made out the distant tinny voice on the comms, "…od damnit, kid, you better answer me …"

"Jack," she managed as she scrambled up and unlocked the van, climbing out, threats to her be damned. She just wanted to see what was happening. She could see taillights speeding away from the scene, already quite distant. "Jack, what happened? We lost comms and tech and …"

"We got the bad guys is what. Trussin' 'em up for transport. What's going on, Ri? Why isn't Mac answering ...?"

"We thought something happened to you. He went out to … Jack, I think somebody grabbed him."

She heard Jack swear. Then she could hear him rattling off orders and communicating with Matty as he went all channel on his mic. In another couple of seconds Jack was shoving his way into the van, and starting it, heedless of the fact that the door would no longer close due to being bent by ballistic impact. Riley climbed into the passenger seat, her laptop already open to do the next important work of the night. They got to the intersection of the parking lot and the road. Jack just asked quietly, "Which way, Ri?"


	14. Chapter 14

Mac groaned as the truck he'd been tossed in the back of hit a speed bump going roughly, by his calculations, a million miles per hour. It tossed him in the air over a foot and slammed him down hard. He could taste blood, but he was pretty sure it was from the elbow to the face he'd gotten before they'd handcuffed him and thrown him in the bed of the small pickup. Two men and a woman, he was fairly certain, but the fight had been over fast, the hood pulled over his head before his eyes could even react to the flashlight that was turned on. They couldn't have gone very far when the brakes were slammed on and he skidded into the wheel well. His captors were already climbing out. Wherever they were reeked to high heaven and there was the buzzing thudding of equipment in constant motion. Best guess, they were at a paper mill or maybe a water treatment facility. Given the concussion he knew he was currently rocking, the swift brutal beating he'd taken both by the assailants and sliding around the back of the truck, all combined with the stink of the place, it was a real effort not to throw up.

The tailgate was dropped and a large hand roughly gripped Mac's ankle. He decided his best bet for the moment was to feign unconsciousness. Jack and Riley couldn't be too far behind him even if she hadn't gotten their comms back. Mac swallowed hard as he was dragged off the back of the truck. If Jack was okay, they would be coming for him. Hell, if Riley was okay. He didn't know what kinds of rounds these bastards had leveled at their van and the bulletproofing only went so far. He almost stiffened when he thought he was just going to be yanked out of the back and allowed to slam on the ground. He already hurt everywhere. But he forced himself to just go full ragdoll. Fortunately, the goon who was handling him flipped him up over his shoulder. His wrists and elbows protested the position because of the handcuffs, but he was able to keep quiet.

"Should we just give it to him now while he's still out?" a husky female voice asked.

"Oh, nonono, that would never do. I want him to know what going to happen to him. I want him to expect his suffering," an all too familiar voice drizzled out words, like syrup from the bottom of the jar, stored too long to be good for anything. Mac wracked his brain for the faces he'd seen briefly and couldn't come up with the one that belonged to that voice. So, he must have been wearing some sort of prosthetic. A good one. Like Bozer good. Mac wondered briefly if Bozer's new polymer had been one of the things Andi Lee had leaked to the Organization.

The man carrying Mac like a sack of potatoes rumbled, "What if his people tailed us?"

"Unlikely. The decoy van went in the other direction and waited long enough to be spotted; assuming there was anyone still standing to worry after dear Angus. We should have some time to get things started. My people will be here to move us overseas in the morning. Then the real fun can begin."

Mac heard someone opening a door. The smell was stronger here. Yeah, definitely water (read sewage) treatment plant. With the big dude's elbow digging into his guts it was a supreme act of will to not gag now. But once they were inside and the door was closed the smell receded and Mac was able to continue to pretend to be unconscious with slightly less focused effort. Being moved overseas didn't sound good. Neither did beginning real fun with Murdoc. Jesus that voice just made his skin crawl. Then the cold hand of the killer seized his wrist above the handcuff. He could feel the man's breath almost on his neck, standing so close to him and the guy carrying him that Mac could hear him swallow. All of his training kept him limp and seemingly unconscious, but for a split second he just wanted to scream and run, or try to anyway. A bullet in the back would probably be better than whatever this psycho had planned, and it didn't sound likely that anyone was going to be coming for him any time soon … Unless maybe Riley was able … The hand squeezed his wrist. Hard. Then it let go.

"Put him over there," Murdoc ordered.

"On the floor?"

A heavy sigh. "No, in the chair. Use the restraints. His heart is beating much too fast for someone who's supposedly been knocked unconscious by some rough handling."

Shit! So that's what Murdoc had been up to. He'd stood close enough to hear the beating of his heart and he'd grabbed him so roughly to see if he'd react to pain. Mac's ability to feel it and still muddle through, when Murdoc himself could feel nothing fascinated the killer. He'd been very frank about that. Mac considered struggling, trying to free himself and run, but he knew that there wasn't any point to it at the moment. He needed to buy some time. So, when he was dropped unceremoniously into the hard wooden chair and the hood was yanked off his head, he didn't even pretend to have been unconscious; he just glared at his captors. Murdoc smiled down at him, sending a chill skittering down his back. Those were Murdoc's eyes but not his face. That uncomfortable thought must have registered in his eyes because the smile got even colder and the man reached up and began peeling the unbelievably realistic mask off his face. When he tossed it aside, it landed face up on the floor and the empty eye sockets of it seemed to be staring up at Mac in pity and horror. He brushed that cheerful thought aside. Mac decided to open the conversation, mostly because he knew it would piss off Captain Control Freak. "Hey, Murdoc. You are one tough bastard to kill, you know it?"

A dreadful chilling titter of laughter. "I really do try to keep things interesting. How've you been, Angus? I really was most impressed with your antics a few months back. And subsequently so was my employer."

"Great. That's always the goal. Be so good, the bad guys want to recruit you."

"It's not so much that we want to recruit you anymore, Angus. We want to convert you."

Before he could ask just what the hell that was supposed to mean, the woman moved toward him and he narrowed his eyes, trying to anticipate what she was about to do. "Be still," she said sharply. "If you move, you die. But slowly."

Now that he could hear more clearly, there was a distinctly Russian tinge to her accent; it was barely there, but to a trained ear it was quite obvious. The big man drew an automatic pistol and placed the muzzle against Mac's kneecap, digging in enough to hurt, enough to remind his captive just how much pain was ahead of him if the trigger was pulled. He smiled down, winked even. He would like nothing more than to blow out Mac's kneecap and his cold blue eyes said so more clearly than words. Mac allowed the woman to uncuff his hands and the cuff each of them separately to an arm of the chair. Next, she shackled his feet to the legs.

 _I know what you're thinking. And you're right. This is not looking good. But don't worry, I have a plan. Well, not exactly a plan, it's more of a thing, which is like a plan but with more … improvising. Besides there's no overpowering or even running away from these guys minus a knee. I need that. For a lot of things._ _I've got this though. Probably._

Finally, Murdoc's lackeys stepped away and he had him in his line of sight again. Mac swallowed, making sure his breathing was even. "What do you mean convert?" he asked, his voice perfectly level, despite the snared rabbit thud of his heart.

One corner of Murdoc's mouth tilted. "Well, it became clear some time ago that, left to your own devices, you were incorruptible. But then you came to me, played the part of the killer and I saw what you could become if we could remove all those delightful barriers you've built for yourself over the years." Murdoc was satisfied when he saw Mac swallow hard. That thought had been keeping the young man up at night, he suspected. Good. Fear would facilitate this process. "When I communicated with my superiors about that little experience they become most intrigued. And what better way to exact revenge on your father who very nearly brought the whole thing down all those years ago than to make you one of us. But could we? Of course, you might have guessed that my little criminal protégé Mr. Tennant was a test. And you passed with flying colors, my boy!"

Mac shook his head, finding himself genuinely irritated. People had died. For some sick game. "Get to the point, Murdoc. The evil villain exposition bit wears thin after a while. I can practically picture the speech bubble over your head."

"Don't tell me you've grown out of comic books, young man. You try much too hard to play the hero for me to believe that." Mac mustered a glare. "We decided to learn all about you. And my but aren't you an interesting, complicated fellow?"

"I'm fascinating," Mac deadpanned, now trying to see what the woman with the bleached blond hair and the accent was doing behind his main adversary.

"Indeed." Murdoc took a step closer. "The more we learned, the more we realized you'd never willingly become the killer I could see behind those dazzling baby blues, but you might just be damaged enough that we could force it on you; create a new killer. In my image, of course."

"What makes you so important to the Organization that they'd green light that for you?" He had a pretty good idea of what was about to go down, and was willing to keep the conversation going as a stall.

 _Come on Jack. I know you're out there looking, big guy. You must be. Drag your ass._

"Well, my own dear old dad just really wanted to see the U.S. government go down in flames for the longest time. And his partner from back in his KGB days happens to run the outfit I work for. Let's just say he owes him one. We all think it's the most delicious irony to twist someone like you, you would give anything for your country, and by extension your government, to do our work."

"Which is?"

"Sowing the seeds of chaos, dear boy. And with your skill set reprogrammed to our moral compass, you'll be royalty among us. Though it won't matter to you by the time we've got you there."

So, Murdoc was connected to Gorsov through his father, who was KGB, and all of them wanted … The woman stepped away from the desk where she'd had her back to him, a syringe filled with a faintly pink fluid in her hand. So, Jack was right. Brainwashing. _Think fast, Mac_. "You guys realize all that brainwashing stuff has been debunked, right? Like it doesn't work. The CIA gave it up in the 60's."

"But their Russian counterparts did not," Murdoc said smoothly. "And what money and regimentation can't provide, necessity and ingenuity often can. You've made your living on that very idea for years now, Angus."

The woman took another step toward him. "How sure are you this isn't going to just make me more _me_ so I can kick your ass even more thoroughly than I have the times you've come after me before?" He swallowed, then put all the cocky swagger he could muster into his voice. "Because, I don't know if you heard, but your guys already tried this once and all that happened was I lit their van on fire and beat the hell out of them. One of them needs reconstructive surgery on his nose. And he was already one ugly dude."

The woman suddenly backhanded Mac across the face with her free hand. "Don't you speak of him!"

"Now, sis, be nice. I've always thought you had strange taste in men, too. But never fear, pretty or not, we'll have your man back to you in no time. That'll be MacGyver's first mission once we've finished remaking him. Breaking all our friends out of that black site."

"That's never going to happen Murdoc."

"That's where you are finally going to turn out to be wrong.

The woman ( _sis?_ he thought wildly) yanked up his sleeve and sunk the needle into his arm.

He tensed involuntarily, which only made it hurt more. His eyes squeezed shut.

Maybe having an actual plan some time would be better.

0-0-0

"How we doin', Ri? Got a lock yet? Or am I just followin' these taillights and hopin' for the best?"

"No … I can't pick up the signal … The chip might have gotten damaged if they threw him around. If he's what hit the side of the van before they shot the hell out of it, he's more than black and blue already." There was the beginning of a hint of panic in her voice.

"Ri, it's gonna be fine," Jack reassured her, mentally panicking about seven ways from Sunday. "They want him alive. That's the message we keep getting loud and clear."

"That actually scares me more," she whispered.

Taking on hand off the wheel, Jack patted her forearm. "Me, too, kid," he admitted, mentally thinking that just flooring it was palpably inadequate and that all Phoenix vehicles should come with secret jet engines or something similarly super spy appropriate.

"Jack, turn around. We're going the wrong way."

Jack didn't hesitate, just slammed on the breaks and then performed a gloriously quick and illegal turn. "Point me in the right direction."

"Back the way we came, due north of the warehouse … The signal's not quite right, but it's definitely moving away from us … wait … it's stopped moving, but I still don't have a lock."

"How close can you get?" Matty's voice interrupted over the comms.

"Within a block. I'll link the feed back to Phoenix. Beth helped Mac develop the tech so she can …"

"I'm on it," Matty interrupted, and then her signal dropped.

The drove for another ten minutes or so before they knew they were within a tenth of a mile of Mac's location. "At least we know he's still got his clothes … well, the most important ones anyway."

Jack just raised an eyebrow at her as he drove slowly down the dark road, looking for a likely location, a glimmer of light, sounds to come in through the open windows, just any clue to his partner's whereabouts. It had been about an hour now and Jack was increasingly tense. "Meaning..?"

"Meaning the chip is in the waistband of his underwear, Jack. He said that seemed like the best place, since he'd never been taken prisoner by anyone who got that far in taking things away so he was pretty sure it was our best bet." Riley half-laughed, her tension at a breaking point. "Blushed like hell when he said it too. It was hilarious."

"Yeah, Mac is unintentionally funny. A lot. Hang on … shhh shhh." Jack put a finger to his lips as they crossed a large grassy space.

"Oh my god, what's that smell?" Riley whispered.

Jack shhh'd again and pointed, cupping his ear, telling her silently to listen. Riley held her breath for a minute and did. Over the sounds of muffled machinery inside the large filthy looking building (how dirty was a place that it looked gross in the dark?) she could hear a man and woman arguing. When they got a little closer she definitely heard Mac's name mentioned. Jack was already on the comms to headquarters so their backup would get there on the hop. They were about five minutes away, but Jack told Matty they were going in. The only vehicle here was a small beat up pickup so there probably weren't that many of them. Matty didn't like it, but didn't want to wait either. "Good luck," was all she said before switching channels to give the tactical team and other back-up their exact location and instructions.

Jack nodded at Riley who ducked down to get on the other side of the double doors, behind which they could here at least two people shouting. She drew her small automatic out of her boot and Jack raised his eyebrows and gave her a grin. Matty must have decided Riley rated full-time status then. Jack stepped back to kick in the door, saying quietly, "On three."

Riley nodded, preparing to help clear the room, hoping desperately that they were in time to prevent something terrible from happening to Mac.

A moment later, Jack kicked in the doors.


	15. Chapter 15

Mac slumped in the chair, head too heavy to lift, listening to the sounds of an argument that sounded fairly serious even through the heavy door. He'd been going to try something if they left him alone, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. He was pretty sure they were fighting about the reason why he couldn't get his brain to work properly, too. They'd started working him over soon after the woman had jabbed him with whatever the hell it was. He was pretty sure it was something different from before. For one thing, it was faintly colored and the other stuff had been clear. For another, the other stuff had stung and burned but this felt like ice water, left him cold. And finally, it didn't make him feel dopey and relaxed the way he had when they'd grabbed him in LA, he felt a strange combination of exhausted and wired. Not to mention angry.

Although, he had to admit, that might not be the drug at all. It could be that he'd already been six shades of black and blue and likely had a concussion when they'd drugged him. Or that they immediately started laying into him (brass knuckles, punching him hard in nerve bundles – the whole nine) while Murdoc began pushing emotional buttons with surgical precision. Or maybe it was how much of the drug he had in his system. When he didn't turn into a cowering mess either from Murdoc's words or the pain they inflicted, Little Sister had gotten pissed off. She apparently took him whaling on her boyfriend and Phoenix taking the guy into custody a little personally. So, she had made it personal for him by filling another syringe and jamming it painfully into almost exactly the same spot on his arm. He'd called her a name he'd never in twenty-eight years on the planet said out loud before. And he didn't even feel bad.

Murdoc was furious with her, practically dragging her out of the small office by the hair. The big guy followed suit. Mac was guessing maybe the muscle had a crush on the boss's sister. Mac could almost sympathize. He was pretty furious with her, too. He'd had about enough of the bad guys using him as a human pin cushion and enough of the Organization disrupting his life to last a thousand lifetimes. Mac thought, in a very muddled way, he should probably be worried for himself if Murdoc was that mad at her and he had said "We don't need him passed out, you idiot. You gave him enough to put under a horse! You can't program the unconscious!" But based on how Mac felt, he couldn't really be bothered to care.

Whatever they'd given him was doing weird things to his perception of time. That at least was familiar from his previous experience. It felt like he'd been in this chair forever, but he knew it was probably only a few minutes since Murdoc and his crew left the room. The chair was really hard. He shifted a little, trying to find a more comfortable position because the slats of the chair digging into his ribs was all he could think about. Instead of feeling scattered like he had last time, he felt focused – to the extreme. But the only thing he had to focus on was hurting. Which just increased those feelings of anger and building frustration. He shifted again and mumbled a curse under his breath as he got a splinter from the arm of the chair right in the fleshy part of the base of his thumb. The slight pain had a crystallizing effect on his thoughts.

 _Wait! The chair is wooden. Hot damn!_ _See, I told you I had a sort of plan._

Now he remembered what he was going to do. It was a cheap wooden office chair, but it was well balanced. He started using his shackled feet to try to tip the chair over. He was retrained in such a way it was extremely difficult to get enough force. When it finally started to go over backward, Mac had just enough time to think, ' _This is gonna suck_ ' before the chair struck the concrete floor and conveniently broke into several pieces. Once Mac got his breath back, which took a couple of minutes because he had hit hard, it was a fairly simple matter to get his feet free, at least from the legs of the chair. One arm of the chair had broken quite conveniently and he was able to slip the chair end of the cuffs off, freeing one hand. The other hand was still secured firmly to the broken chair arm. They'd taken both his phone and his Swiss Army knife off him already so he looked around the office. _Paper clips! Score!_ But when he tried to get up to retrieve his possible improvised lock pick the room began to spin wildly. He almost overbalanced and fell into the desk, but his mostly free hand darted out, apparently of its own accord and braced against the desk.

He made himself slow down. It felt like it took an hour, but he finally managed to get to his feet. He eased himself around behind the desk and sat down hard on the slightly more padded chair that was back there. The desk looked about as wide as the Gobi Desert, but he forced himself to reach across it to the small supply caddy and grab a paper clip. _Oh, good. The big ones. Those are stiffer; work better._ Unwinding the paperclip and bending it to work with felt like an insurmountable task. His fingers felt slow and stupid. But he finally managed it. Outside of the office seemed to be getting noisier.

 _That might be bad … Or maybe it was good._

Maybe somebody had showed up to help him. Or maybe whoever oversaw the place was stopping by to check on it and that could buy him some time. He managed to get the shackles off both ankles and felt about fifty pounds lighter as a result. He first tried to loosen the cuff that was still attached to the chair parts, but he had to use his non-dominant hand for that and the drugs in his system made it feel impossible. _One problem at a time, Mac. Solve the easy one first._ He freed his other hand from the cuff and set to work on extracting himself from the chair arm.

He went sprawling out of the chair at the sounds of gunfire. By the time he'd gotten to his feet, Murdoc burst back through the door. When he saw the remnants of the chair and a mostly-freed Mac propping himself up against the desk, he lunged at his captive, nearly knocking an unbalanced Mac off his feet. He twisted Mac around in an awkward hold that normally he wouldn't have any trouble breaking, but he couldn't seem to leverage himself against his opponent. Murdoc was behind him, his arm around Mac's throat, gun pressing painfully into the base of Mac's already aching skull. He hissed in the younger man's ear. "You're my ticket out of here, Angus. And my ticket back into the boss's good graces. I can hardly wait to get you home."

The very idea … and the tone with which it was said … sent bright fresh panic all through Mac. The adrenaline gave Mac the surge of strength and lucidity he needed to break Murdoc's hold. There was a wild, swinging, grappling fight. At least Murdoc dropped his gun, Mac thought, but his strength to keep this up wasn't going to last. And he knew it. In a last-ditch effort to overcome his adversary's superior size (and the fact that the psychopath _wasn't_ drugged to the gills and he _was_ ) Mac turned the piece of chair still attached to him into a weapon, swinging the wood like a bludgeon. Mac had never been so furious, so heedless of the consequences of his actions, in his entire life. He'd come close in that prison cell with his hands around Murdoc's throat all those months ago, but then there had been a little voice inside his head urging him to stop, to seek another way. That voice was quiet now.

Murdoc's face was a bloody mess and he was barely struggling against the onslaught after a very short time. Mac thought he heard Jack's voice call out to someone nearby and somewhere in his head he knew this was almost over and he felt a distant sort of relief. Mac realized Murdoc was barely conscious. He stopped hitting him through a sheer act of reasserting his will over his emotions. His anger wanted to just keep beating Murdoc until there was nothing left to beat. But, he forced himself to his feet, trying to clear his head and decide what to do next. First he picked his way out of the last lock, throwing the handcuff and bloodied chair fragment across the room with more force than he really intended. One of the sets of cuffs they'd used on him was still on the desk. He should cuff the evil bastard.

When Mac moved back to the floor to do just that, he saw Murdoc's gun lying on the floor by his feet. He picked it up, thinking he'd move it away just in case Murdoc got a second wind. Suddenly, standing over Murdoc – the man who had tried to kill him repeatedly, who had threatened Jack, threatened Jim, who wanted Mac to control and manipulate for the Organization (and his own, Mac suspected, and that was somehow worse) – the weight of the weapon was suddenly less threatening than he'd always found it and more reassuring. He could end this right here and now. He pointed the barrel at Murdoc. The man's liquid eyes looked more amused that fearful as the stared up at him; holding onto consciousness more out of curiosity that fear. Mac didn't feel like any of this was real, didn't feel like what happened here mattered. All he felt was cold fury at the way this man, and his Organization, kept derailing his life.

"I wish you would, Angus," he rasped. "You could become the man I would make of you right now."

"Mac," Jack's voice called softly from the door.

Mac didn't even glance at him, never took his eyes of Murdoc. His resolve to put an end to this evil creature was growing with every passing second. Jack knew what real anger looked like on his partner, and this was it. Then he took in the vials and syringes on the desk, Mac's bruised and bloody appearance, his unsteady stance and shaking hands. He tried again.

"Mac, buddy, I know you don't actually want to do that."

This time Mac glanced at him. "I'm pretty sure I do." Mac thought distractedly that he'd never been more sure of anything.

"You're not thinking clearly, bud. Looks like they doped you up pretty good again, and you're all kinds of beat up. You don't want this in your head when you finally get your senses back. Trust me."

If one of them was going to put a bullet in this guy, Jack would rather it was him. Didn't matter what the other guy did, if you were the one to put them down, there was a cost. Jack had learned to sleep with that under his pillow a long time ago.

"I just want it to be over," he breathed, adrenaline fading, but not the anger. That glowed like a coal in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at Jack though, and his hand wavered slightly.

"And if we take him in, it can be. From the canaries in the other room, sounds like Murdoc knows more about the Organization at the top than we thought. We can force him to help bring it down."

"No, we can't; interrogation didn't work, even once we knew about his son. He only says things that serve his purpose, advance his agenda."

"But now we have his sister, too, and she's already talking, Mac. Right here on site. I mean, Riley kind of shot her in the leg so she's inclined to cooperate because Ri looks ready to do it again at the drop of a hat. But we've got 'em brother. We won. Besides, you already kicked his ass even in the shape you're in and this time he won't get away from us. And this isn't you. Put the gun down, okay?"

Jack understood the impulse, he really did. But he knew Mac wasn't really in a place to make that kind of life altering decision.

Mac hesitated for a minute, the he set the weapon on the desk, nodding slightly. He sat down on the edge, too tired to stand anymore, but too furious with the whole world to do anything else. He started breathing deeply, trying to get on top of that feeling. Jack restrained the half-conscious Murdoc and called to someone outside the door. A couple of other agents came in and hauled Murdoc off. Then they were joined by the kid who was acting as their team medic. Mac threw him a glare for good measure.

"Hey Ross," Jack said, letting the young man know this wasn't an ideal situation with his tone and the look in his eyes. "They've drugged our buddy here pretty good. Gave him whatever's in that vial twice by the looks of it. In the last hour or so. The rest of what they were up to is pretty obvious." Jack tipped his chin in the direction of Mac's ripped shirt and general tangled-with-Mike-Tyson appearance.

Ross nodded, taking the vial from Jack, looking it over, and then shrugging. "We'll get it tested asap." He stepped in front of Mac, careful to give the agent plenty of personal space. He knew Mac well enough to know that he was not himself at the moment. He also knew that on his best day, it was better to ask rather than tell with Mac so he just questioned him quietly. "You going to let me look you over or you waiting until you get to the hospital?"

Mac frowned. "You," was all he said. He closed his eyes for a second, swaying even though he was sitting on the desk. Jack peered at him with intense concern, placing a hand on Mac's shoulder to keep him upright. Mac let the medic do his job a little resentfully and answered Ross's questions honestly, albeit slowly. Jack looked to the man for an immediate verdict.

Ross shrugged. "We got a concussion here I believe, but it doesn't seem serious. Various contusions and abrasions. The usual. His vitals are fine at the moment. So, it's not an emergency, but we should get him under care, at least until we know what they gave him."

Mac didn't appear to be listening, and Jack just nodded. As soon as the medic was out of the way, Jack moved to stand next to Mac.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's get outta here," Jack said, leaning down to help Mac stand up and sling his arm up over Jack's shoulders to he could keep him on his feet while they got to their van.

Mac was so relieved to sit down in the comfortable passenger seat, no longer under threat and knowing the bad guys were all in custody that he just closed his eyes. He was only about half listening to Jack talking to Matty on his cell. After a few minutes, when he was aware of the van moving he peeled his eyes open again. "Jack, this isn't the route to the airport," he said with annoyance.

"That's because I'm taking you to the nearest hospital, kiddo."

Mac shook his head stubbornly. "Ross said it's not an emergency. Airport. Then home."

"Bud, there's a difference between not-an-emergency-but-get-Mac-to-a-doctor and go home and watch Netflix."

Mac shook his head again. It ached and swam a little. That just pissed him off more. "Don't make this a bigger deal than it is. I just want to go home," he snapped.

Jack glanced at his partner. "Matty already gave orders …"

"I don't give a damn what Matty said. Ross can take that stuff to the lab and they can figure it out without me! I'm going home and sleeping this off. In my own bed. With nobody else around!"

Jack decided to try again. "Mac, bud, you know you're not thinkin' real clearly, all the crap they put in your system. If you were, you'd know you need …"

"I swear, Jack, if you don't just turn around and head for the airport I will jump out of a moving car and find my own way back to LA."

Jack flipped on the dome light and took a better look at Mac. The kid meant it. He'd already been through a week's worth of hell in the space of two hours and Jack hadn't been wrong. Mac's thinking wasn't clear. Jack made a decision. He'd give Mac the chewing out he so richly deserved when the kid was himself and not just out of his tree on designer drugs. It irked him to save his stay-in-the-damned-van lecture for later, but he didn't think Mac was really up to processing it at the moment. "Okay, back to LA. But Phoenix Medical instead of straight home."

"Jack …" Mac used a warning tone Jack didn't think he'd ever heard before.

"Deal or no deal?" Jack asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"I already told you. You can take me home or I can get there on my own. I don't need a goddamned chaperone!"

Jack swallowed. Mac was just drugged enough, was just hurt enough, just angry enough to probably do exactly what he was threatening to do and combat roll right out of the van and into the dark. That was not going to improve the situation. Jack saw the way Mac was squinting in the light from the dome so he reached up and turned it off before easing off the road and turning the van around. "Okay. Home. You got it, bud."

He heard Riley's disbelieving snort from the back, but he also heard Mac's sigh of relief. Mac managed to stay awake until they were back on the Phoenix jet, but as soon as he was on one of the soft couches, he just pulled a blanket over himself. Jack stood next to him for a minute.

"Mac are you sure you won't ..?"

"Jack," Mac, still sounding grumpy as hell, began from under his blanket. Then he just said, "Please," no longer sounding angry, just sounding done. With everything.

"Okay, bud. I've got you."

Mac dozed off for the short flight home. Normally Jack would've hassled him awake because Ross had mentioned a concussion, but he thought that with the drugs in Mac's system it wouldn't get him anything other than a black eye and a Mac just as likely to fall asleep afterwards as if he just left him be. Jack pulled out his cell and reached out to Matty to let her know what was going on. She was not happy. Jack told her that was alright because neither was he. Neither one of them had to be happy to get the job done. "Fine. Just get yourselves back here."

Then she just asked what Jack needed from her to make sure Mac was alright.


	16. Chapter 16

Mac was drying his hair, when there was a soft tap on his bathroom door, followed by a familiar voice that didn't belong to the only person who currently had his permission to be in the house. "Mac?"

He sighed. They were really not going to let this go. He ignored it and just finished drying off and pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants with GO ARMY printed down one leg. He looked around. He'd forgotten his damned shirt on his bed. He took a deep breath when he realized that how irritated that made him feel was a far cry from normal. Another tap on the door, slightly louder now, and another, slightly more forceful, "Mac?"

He sighed again. Ignoring her just because he was in a pissy mood was hardly fair. "Yeah, Mel?"

"You okay in there?"

Instead of answering, he just opened the door and stepped back into his bedroom, letting the steam from his long hot shower billow into the room. He brushed past her to go over to his bed where he grabbed the Cowboys t-shirt he'd long ago appropriated from Jack because it was so comfortable and so big that it didn't hurt to wear no matter how banged up he was. When he raised his arms to pull it over his head, he hissed with pain. Mel could tell from where she was standing that his ribs were badly bruised, quite possibly fractured, but since he'd refused to let Steve examine him when they landed, it was impossible to know. He _hmphed_ and sat down on the bed, looking sullenly at the floor. "Did Matty call you?"

He knew Mel hadn't been at work before coming here because she was wearing yoga pants and a Rick and Morty t-shirt. After he told Steve to just go home, he was going to be so pissed if Matty had turned around and called …

"No," she stepped in front of him. " _I_ called _her_. I hadn't heard anything and I got worried."

She called. Just to find out how the mission had gone, to find out if they were okay. If _he_ was okay. That took some of the wind out of his sales. "Sorry. I thought …" he trailed off for a minute. "I kind of yelled at Steve when we landed. And Jack. And Matty." He bit his lip. "I know I should've gone in. I just …"

"You spent half the night being stabbed with pointy objects and manhandled. You've been drugged for the second time in a month and who knows what that's doing to you. I can see how maybe given your general predilections you couldn't deal with going in to Medical."

He glanced up at her. Her eyebrows were drawn together with what he thought of as her worry line almost connecting them, but her expression was soft. "You're really not here for work?"

"I was home in my pj's pretending there was a fat chance in hell that I would be able to sleep knowing you were going after the guy who put out the contracts on all of us and I'd texted you and Jack and even Ri a bunch and nobody answered. So, I called Matty. She's kind of pissed at you by the way."

Mac grinned, just a little. "Usually."

He moved over, inviting her to sit on the bed next to him. "She said you were alive despite your best efforts to be otherwise and that I could call Jack because he was the only one you were allowing within a fifty-yard radius or something. So, I did."

Mac sighed, and reached up with one hand to massage his forehead. "And he thought I might not yell at _you_?"

"Which is just dumb, because you've yelled at me before. At least twice. And Jack was there."

"I've never yelled," he grumped.

"Okay, maybe whined loudly is more accurate." She paused. "The consensus is you need someone to keep an eye on you until the labs come back, at a minimum."

Mac's deep, irritated frown was coming back. "I'll go if I feel …"

"Matty is ready to order Jack to throw your doped up irrational ass over his shoulder and just drag you to Medical."

"Good luck with that!" he huffed. "I could take Jack."

Mel laughed. "On a normal day, sure. But I saw you with your shirt off just now. And I can see that your pupils are uneven; how stiff you are when you move. Jack could have you at Phoenix in a half hour, even if you were kicking and screaming the whole way."

"So, you _are_ here officially. Nurse Mel to the rescue, huh?" he said resentfully.

"I came over, as a friend, who happens to have some medical expertise, and I promised to call in if you weren't okay. Otherwise Matty will just order you and make you unhappier than you already are." He shrugged. He'd said earlier that he didn't give a damn what Matty said. Now that he was slightly more relaxed he knew that wasn't exactly true. He massaged the back of his neck and glanced at Mel again. She shrugged, too. "It's my day off, Mac! Honestly, I was planning on coming over to see you anyway, since we didn't get to take that hike we talked about."

She knew he was probably too chemically altered to realize it, but telling him her plans for today was a lot of vulnerability on her part. She'd been trying very hard to not be pushy or test the limits of either of their feelings, but when she hadn't been able to reach them earlier, the last of her own walls took a heavy hit.

"Really? This isn't an everybody ganging up on Mac thing?"

"Look at this outfit. This is Day Off Mel. Nurse Mel would never dare wear my Rick and Morty t-shirt to the infirmary. I might get blood on it and it's a limited edition."

Mac chuckled this time. "So, you're really just here to see me. You're really not working?"

"I mean, my kit _is_ in my car. But it's _always_ in my car, so you're not allowed to hold that against me."

"I'll try not to."

"Good. Because you are about to experience my mean and bossy thing. You're back in LA, showered, and in your comfiest pj's. But you're also hurt. You're drugged with who knows what. And you're miserable." He shrugged. "Go to the infirmary. If not for yourself, then so Jack and I don't worry ourselves sick."

"That was mean. And bossy. And slightly manipulative," he narrowed his eyes at her, but she thought some of that typical Mac twinkle was back.

"Probably. But … Did it work?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. Whatever the drug was must wear off faster than whatever it was last time because he already felt more like himself and it hadn't been eight hours yet. Of course, with renewed rationality came some embarrassment over what he'd said and done under the influence of the drug. "I'm seriously going to have to apologize to some people, especially Steve."

"He's s doctor. You think you're the first patient to lose it with him? Trust me, the things people say when they're hurt, or sick, or drugged? You're fine, trust me. Other than being almost as worried about you as Jack and I, he's probably already forgotten all about it. And hey, you sound a little more like yourself now."

Mac smiled at her. "I still feel like yelling at everybody, running a half-marathon, and maybe punching some walls or some faces." He paused, sighing. "But at least the voice telling me that's a bad idea is back." He looked over at her, but didn't quite meet her eyes. "Sorry you had to come over here on your day off. It's ungodly early."

She slid closer to him on the bed and unthinkingly put her arm around him, gently, careful not to cause him pain. "Never apologize for someone treating you like you deserve to be, Mac."

He looked up to find Jack standing in the doorway. He gave him a half smile. Jack grinned back. "Mel talk some sense into you, kid?" he asked lightly.

"She's trying. And I haven't even yelled at her," he offered, by way of a backhanded apology.

"Ah well, she's prettier than me," Jack smiled, but gave Mac a nod to let his partner know he understood.

"Jackass," Mel and Mac said together, both with a great deal of affection.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I know I'd feel better if we were closer to help if anything you've got in your system turns hinkey. What do you say?"

 _Hinkey_. Mac almost chuckled. He considered teasing Jack for his old man vocabulary, but thought better of it. What started as teasing could probably turn into what felt like a fight in his present state of mind. And he'd already yelled at Jack once today.

He just gave a slightly reluctant nod. "Yeah, I guess."

0-0-0

By that evening, the toll of being drugged, beaten, artificially angry, and awake for over twenty-four hours straight had worn Mac down enough that he wasn't even all that grumpy about being in the infirmary. He'd been a reasonably good sport about x-rays and labs, and was biting his tongue against being as outright nasty as he felt like being and had enough of his faculties back to be mostly successful. They learned he had a concussion and some fractured and several bruised ribs, and a hell of a lot of other bumps and bruises. There was no one injury that was terribly concerning, but the drugs were turning out to be hard to identify so they'd had to tap into some other agency's resources and then wait to hear back. He'd stopped asking how long Steve planned to keep him after lunch, and divided his time between watching Netflix on his tablet, some low level arguing with the staff, and trying to get Jack and Mel to stop hovering over him. After he ate dinner, which Jack had gone out for because nothing said we want to make your life as pleasant as possible like IN-N-Out Burger, Mac dozed off in front of the TV with Jack in a chair on one side and Mel on the other. Steve came in a short while later and grinned to find the two of them so determined not to wake Mac that they were texting each other from about two feet away to keep things quiet. He waved them over away from the bed.

"What's the word, Doc?" Jack asked quietly, glancing back at his sleeping partner.

"The lab finally sorted out all the components of the contents of that vial and have been able to analyze the blood samples we've taken for how its half-life is actually playing out with Mac."

"And?" Mel asked, line creasing her forehead.

"Similar components to last time with the addition of some stimulants, a couple of other things that can disrupt certain neurotransmitters. I can imagine what they were planning to do with those two drugs. Alternating those experiences would be a powerful way to lower someone's defenses."

"That's not great," Mel frowned.

Steve nodded. "But, our biggest worry would have been cardiac or pulmonary issues. And it's not doing anything to his heart or respiration. Nothing concerning anyway. Minor elevation."

"That's good," Jack mumbled, looking at his sleeping partner again.

"Some of that is just that he's young and in exceptional shape. However, you guys bringing him in and talking him into the IV and pushing fluids was also a big part of it." Steve gave them both a little nod.

"He's just grumpy mostly. Nothing's going to stop him being smart, too. We just reminded him of that and it got him past those drugs; that's all," Mel said, modestly.

Jack put a friendly arm around her shoulder, not really thinking about it, just the way he would with Mac or Riley.

"So, he needs to continue fluids, not elevating his pulse, that sort of thing?" Mel asked.

Jack felt just how tense she was. Not wanting to point it out, since he was pretty sure he was the only one who had noticed the way she and Mac were circling each other, Jack just decided to get her the answer she really wanted, since Steve had a folder of the most recent information in his hand. "So, he's gonna be fine?"

Steve smiled. "Yes. He needs to put up with being monitored for probably a week or so …"

"A week? Poor kid!" Jack exclaimed. Then he shook his head. "No way you get him to agree to that, Steve."

Steve nodded with a wry smile. "Of course not, not here. It's not really that serious. As long as one of us is with him he can go home. A couple of days would probably be a better idea, but I think he needs some space, some control after all that. I was coming in to tell you all he could leave tonight if he agrees to us keeping tabs on him and coming back in every day until it's out of his system. But since he's already asleep, discharging him will keep until morning."

There was a noise and they all turned. Mac was sitting on the edge of his bed, already lacing his sneakers. He looked up and smiled, albeit a little wanly. "Who's driving?"

"Me," Mel said slightly forcefully. "And I'm staying with you guys. Somebody has to keep up the bossy and mean stuff and Jack feels too sorry for you."

Mac just grinned.


	17. Chapter 17

Mac thought he was doing an admirable job of managing his irritation with his friends' hovering. The raised eyebrows he'd just gotten from Mel told him maybe that wasn't the case when he'd responded to her offer to get him another water bottle.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry?" he tried.

"You don't even know what you did, do you?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"Yes … No … Whatever," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew he'd just taken her head off, but he couldn't remember specifically what he'd said. Stuff just kept slipping out, his usual filter temporarily broken.

She sat down on the edge of the couch cushion next to him. "You know we're supposed to take you back in if the agitation gets worse, right?"

"Right," he agreed, but with a slight frown. "It's not worse. Honestly." He paused for a deep breath. It was a good thing Jack and Mel both really cared about him and knew his responses weren't entirely his own, he thought, grateful that they weren't taking his churlishness overly personally. "I'm never good with people hovering. I'm having a hard time keeping a lid on it, I guess."

She smiled. "I've seen how you deal with being taken care of, even absent a bunch of drugs, and I have to admit this isn't _much_ worse." Her wry expression and singular raised eyebrow wrung a small laugh out of Mac. "I'm trying really hard not to let Nurse Mel into this party … But … Increased anger or agitation is a symptom Steve wants reported." She stopped and gave him a long appraising look, but not the cool, professional one he was used to. This look held an uncomfortable level of concern. "You kept glancing at your empty bottle and I know it hurts to move around a lot. I thought maybe you were thirsty so I just offered to get you some more," she said as gently as she could while still letting him know his response worried her.

"I'm sorry," he said more genuinely. "I guess I read it as more 'let's keep our patient hydrated' … I didn't mean to snap. I'm still pretty keyed up … And … I'm maybe having a hard time separating out the good friend who's trying to help from the nurse who's been a thorn in my side more than once."

He gave her a small smile then, which she returned and reached up to cup his face with one hand. "I'm having a hard time separating those roles at the moment, too," she offered.

His eyes moved down toward the hand on his face, which at first he'd read as simply a tender gesture, one that unconsciously communicated a desire for something beyond friendship, but then he looked in her eyes and his own narrowed. "You're taking my pulse right now. In the sneakiest way possible."

She laughed and took her hand away. "I may have slightly been doing just that. Are you going to yell at me again?" she asked with a small smile.

He was about to say ' _maybe_ ' and ask if that's all she'd been doing, feeling somewhat emboldened by whatever was in his system, but also feeling a blush creep into his cheeks, but Jack chose that moment to return with their late lunch from the taco truck down the street. Mac had offered to cook, but neither Jack nor Mel would let him try, since he couldn't even pretend to hide how all-over sore he was.

Jack set the bags and drink carrier down on the coffee table and looked them both over. "What've you two been up to while I was gone?"

"Mostly I've been being a jerk and Mel's just been trying to be really cool with it," Mac said to brush off anything else Jack might have read in their expressions.

Determined to keep all the caregivers on the same page, Mel did add, "He was very grumpy with me for no good reason and I just reminded him we're supposed to keep an eye on that." She looked at Mac very pointedly again, completely dissipating their earlier moment of almost-connection.

Jack nodded, indicating that he got where they were at, from both sides; then he tipped Mac a grin. "Maybe you're just hangry."

Mac managed a laugh. "Kind of what it feels like, actually."

Mac was several tacos, and half of one of the best fresh-squeezed limeades he'd ever had, into his late mid-day meal when Mel casually mentioned, "I thought you were supposed to check in with Medical every day until you get the all-clear. It's getting kind of late."

Jack was studiously looking everywhere but at Mac; he'd been about to say the same thing and the immediate flash in his partner's eyes let Jack know he was still going to be very easy to set off this afternoon. Then he decided he didn't really want to get on Mel's bad side either, so he said in an even more casual tone than Mel had used, "I kinda remember that being part of the deal, too, now that ya mention it."

Mac just took another bite of his taco, picked up the remote and put the TV on. "Yeah, but he didn't really say what for unless things got weird. So, I texted him saying I didn't feel like it and said if he had a compelling rational reason, other than SOP, I'd consider revising my plans."

"What'd he say?" Jack asked, picturing their friend's face upon receiving that particular text.

Mac shrugged, then stretched his neck as the gesture cause twinging muscle spasms all down one side. "He hasn't answered, so I figure it's all good."

Mel shook her head and got out her own phone, tilting her chin at Mac, almost daring him to challenge her. He just shrugged again, tamping down on the irritation that was still percolating under the surface of his thoughts, because he knew it wasn't natural to him. After a few minutes, she looked up from her phone with a very satisfied expression on her face.

"What?" Mac asked.

"You're right. He said it's totally unnecessary for you to come in today."

"So why didn't he just text me back?" Mac grumped.

"He was just going to come over here himself …"

He didn't like the look she was giving him. At all. "But ..?"

"But, I was supposed to work second shift today anyway. Now I'm assigned to you to take care of everything he needs right from here."

"Like what?"

"Updated vitals, injury status, new labs that he'll send someone by to collect. So instead of going in to the infirmary like you were supposed to, you can stay right here and have my undivided professional attention all evening."

"What the hell for? I told him I'm not just putting up with being poked and prodded because that's what you all do when someone's been roughed up in the field."

Jack raised an amused eyebrow at his partner. "You really think there's a standard operating procedure for an agent getting kidnapped and drugged by a nutjob who wants to brainwash him?" Mac's mouth dropped open slightly, not quite prepared with a quick comeback for that. "Steve's just doing his job managing your case. Letting you be here instead of at Medical is very counter to SOP, by the way. He's tapped the lovely Nurse Sullivan to help him out is all."

Mel flashed Jack a smile, then looked at Mac. "Aren't you lucky?" She gave him a wicked grin.

"Yeah. Super lucky. I feel truly blessed," he smirked a little, then just sighed and shook his head.

"I'll go get my kit out of the car," she said brightly.

He glared at her for a second. "Your shift doesn't officially start until 3:30."

"So?"

"So, sit down and finish your damned tacos before you gleefully torture me."

"Mac …"

"3:30. Not a second before." His arms folded stubbornly, but he flinched a little, reminded that the arm Murdoc's sister had used as a dart board was sorer than he had anticipated.

Jack took a sip of his soda, trying not to laugh. They'd barely figured out how to navigate their relationship as professionals, and now there was a highly personal component – growing all the time – right in the middle of things, muddying the waters considerably. He gave Mel a sympathetic look, but kept his commiseration off Mac's radar.

She rolled her eyes elaborately at Mac. "Stubborn and ridiculous."

He gave her an eye roll of his own, followed by a slightly more genuine smile. "Bossy and mean."

She winked, and it was almost flirtatious. "Just you wait."

0-0-0

Around nine that night, Mac had his fill of the two of them fussing over him, especially Mel in her official capacity. "When do you go off duty again?" he asked impatiently.

She and Jack tried to back off a little, but he knew he was being impatient, even for him. After a while he sunk down into the cushions allowing his eyes to drift closed. His body relaxed and his breathing slowed. After about ten minutes, Mel gently shook his shoulder. "Mac, you awake?"

"Mmmm," was the murmured reply.

"Why don't you go to bed? You're already all beat up. Sleeping sitting up on the couch is just going to make you hurt more."

He nodded and shuffled into his room, just smiling sleepily when Mel followed him and took his pulse again before pulling his covers over him. "G'night, Mac. If you need me, I'll be in the guest room, okay? On duty or not."

"'Kay. 'Night," he mumbled, and his eyes closed, his face went slack after a moment or two.

Mel went back into the living room, leaving Mac's door open behind her so she and Jack could hear him if he needed them. Jack looked up with a fond smile. "If I ever wondered, you put paid to it tonight. You really care about him."

She just shook her head. "I'm a nurse, dum dum."

"You know I don't mean like that. I've seen the look you give somebody who's grouchy with you in the infirmary."

"Been on the receiving end, more than once, ya big baby," she teased.

Not to be dissuaded, Jack just nodded. "Exactly. But Mac has been a gold-plated pain in the ass since yesterday and … Look, I know he can't help it, that it's the drugs they gave him, which is why I'm treadin' so light myself, but you … you just … When you look at him, I picture a little lost puppy you've found in the rain."

She looked away, glancing at Mac's open door, grateful that he was asleep, since otherwise she was sure this would have been overheard. "I don't mean to … You don't think he's taking it like that do you? It's just I know he hates being vulnerable and this must be terrible for him and …"

"Hey, you're doin' just right, okay?" Jack gestured toward the couch next to him and she sat facing him, but also darting glances toward Mac's bedroom door, as if she didn't quite believe he couldn't hear them. "You're not coming off as overbearing, or like you feel sorry for him … I didn't mean like that." Jack stopped and thought about it. "It's more like you look at him, and you see everything he's been through, and you still see his value … his worth … and you want him to see it too."

She blushed a little and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I … Yeah."

Jack patted her shoulder. "And you're not pushing, either as his nurse, or his friend, or as anything more, which is the only way forward with Mac. It's on his terms or not at all. That's just what he's like, what he's had to be like." She nodded, understanding that Jack was saying an awful lot with very few words, and it warmed her in an unexpected way. She found herself pulling him into a hug that surprised them both. "Hey there, he's gonna be fine, and we … well, we'll just keep being the luckiest couple of mean bossy cusses he ever met."

She snickered into his shoulder before she pulled away. "Don't you start calling me mean and bossy, too."

Jack grinned. "Can we both call him stubborn and ridiculous though?"

She grinned back. "It's only fair, since it's the absolute truth."

Jack tipped his chin in the direction of the bedrooms. "I think you're officially off duty now, Nurse Sullivan. You've turned back into regular ole Mel. Why don't you go get some sleep?"

She glanced at Mac's doorway. "Are you ..?"

"I'll crash right here on the couch. I'll hear him if he needs anything. And I'll wake you if necessary."

"Okay." She got up and took a couple of steps toward the guest room. "Thanks, Jack." He just smiled at her. "You won't say anything to him ..?"

"I'm Delta, lady. I think I know how to keep a damned secret."

Mel headed into the guest room humming a song she couldn't quite place and fell onto the bed, still wearing her limited-edition t-shirt and yoga pants. She hadn't said so, but she hadn't slept since Mac's team had left Phoenix to go after Gorsov.

Out in the living room, Jack was thinking about the last time he'd slept and it was right around the same time Mel had. However, he knew something was up, so instead of falling into blissful slumber, he lay down, put one arm over his eyes and pretended to sleep, mentally testing out various ways to handle what he knew was coming.


	18. Chapter 18

Mac nearly jumped out of his skin when Jack joined him at the porch railing sometime after midnight. Jack didn't say anything, just crossed his arms and leaned against them on the railing next to Mac. He'd decided the best way to handle this was in the same nonconfrontational manner he'd been using so far, and he'd just judge how far he could push moment to moment. Mac offered a greeting, tinged with something that sounded like an equal balance of amusement and irritation. "Hey, Jack. You're a lot better at pretending to be asleep than you used to be."

"So're you. You fooled Mel for sure." He let Mac hear some slight disapproval, but left it at that.

Mac glanced at Jack, then away again. "Yeah. I'm not necessarily proud of that. I just felt like growling at both of you again … And neither one of you deserved that."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

Mac just smirked at him. "Because you guys are taking mother hen to a whole new level … or at least it feels that way … And that makes me even crabbier."

"Plus, you didn't want Nurse Mel dragging you back in to the infirmary," Jack said, returning Mac's smirk.

"Yeah, well … she's a lot more fun to have around when she's not on duty." Mac quickly looked back out over the city.

Jack snickered and decided to leave the topic of Mac's fluctuating moods on the table for the moment. He could pick it up again when he wanted to. He smoothly changed the subject. "Sarah says hello."

Mac smiled. "How're she and the baby?"

Jack pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture she'd texted him earlier. If anything, the unselfconscious photo of her with her messy hair pulled into a tousled ponytail without a stitch of makeup on and her huge smile over her sleeping baby's head made Mac like her even more. "Beautiful," Jack finally answered.

"I can see that for myself," he said, and realized it sounded snarkier than he'd meant. Mentally cursing his mood, he tried again. "But they're well?"

Jack patted Mac gently on the shoulder that was … well, not uninjured, but less sore. "They're good. I think the fact that the test was wrong and she got herself a little girl was kinda the icing on the cake."

"What did she name her again?"

"Winifred, after her grandmother." Jack wrinkled his nose. "Poor kid."

"I sympathize deeply," Mac said with sincerity. "Is she already Winnie? Because you have to tell Sarah not to do that. Kids will call her the worst thing they can think of. Which probably means Poo."

Mac looked so offended that Jack had to laugh. "Nah, Sarah's too smart for that. Her little angel's Fred and I suspect that's what she'll stay. And she'll be an unbelievable badass, just like her Mama."

"Has her husband ..?"

"No," Jack's expression darkened, almost matching Mac's underlying mood. "He hasn't even been to see them. When things settle down here, I might …"

"You should," Mac said. "I bet they'd love to see you." Mac tried on a smile for Jack and he knew it looked a little forced, but he could tell his partner appreciated it.

Since they were back to talking about the women in their lives, Jack decided it was a good way to bring the conversation back closer to home. "Say, how much of the conversation Mel and I had did you hear?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Mac said, with more heat that was typical for him. " _She_ left the door open."

"Because she thought you were asleep." Mac tossed him a slightly guilty glance, but returned to staring at the skyline.

"I heard you call me a pain in the ass," Mac managed a smile, this one a little less sickly.

"So, you heard me layin' down some truth. Alright. Anything else."

"Not really," Mac said just a little too quickly.

"Alright … So how do you feel about that conversation you didn't overhear?"

Mac shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed his forehead. "Right now, Jack, I don't know how I feel about anything."

"Fair enough." Jack paused. "You think you're good to go to the mission update in the morning?"

"Yeah, of course," Mac answered, again, just a little too quickly for Jack's liking. "I'm not going to be left out of the loop because … I'm a little off."

Jack nodded. "Maybe we should try to get some sleep then."

"Um … sure. Let's head inside," Mac was overly agreeable.

"When's the last time you slept, Mac?"

He looked away again. "A while ago?" he hedged, knowing that wasn't a good answer.

Jack shook his head with a knowing smirk. "Meaning before the mission. Am I right?"

Mac sighed. "Yeah."

"Nightmares back?" he asked. Mac had a good run, but Jack figured that wasn't going to be permanent.

Mac shook his head. "Just can't sleep. Even a little."

"Wanna go watch _Star Wars_?" Jack offered.

Mac smiled, pleased his admission hadn't triggered a bunch of Papa Jack fussing. "Sure. If you're up for it."

They started walking inside, and Jack turned to close the doors. While his back was to Mac, who was settling into his favorite corner of the couch, he said, "But you know you should go into the infirmary tomorrow morning and report all this."

Mac huffed with frustration. "It'll wear off eventually, Jack."

Jack turned to face him now. "And how badly off will you be by the time it does?"

Mac turned the TV on and pulled up the movie in his Amazon app. "I don't need to …"

"I'll go wake Mel up right now, Angus Henry MacGyver, don't you even test me," Jack said in a purposeful parody of his more paternal lecturing.

Mac laughed. "Okay, okay. I give up. I'll go in tomorrow before the update. Jeez. Don't go threatening me with mean bossy nurses, no matter how cute they are."

Jack grinned, both at his small victory and at Mac's slip of the tongue. "So, you _do_ think she's cute."

"That's not what I ... Okay, yeah. She's cute. You happy now? You tricked me into admitting it. Among other things." Mac gave him a glare that was only about a third serious.

"I wouldn't have to trick you into anything if …" Jack paused for dramatic effect. "You weren't so stubborn and ridiculous." He pulled on a smug grin.

Mac's eyes flashed just a little, but Jack could tell it was more from embarrassment than the unnatural agitation his partner had been feeling. "Don't you start that, too!" Jack's grin spread. "I mean it, Jack!" The grin didn't dissipate. Mac sighed and sunk his aching body further into the couch cushions and pulled a throw pillow in front of himself in an almost protective gesture. "Just watch the damned movie …" They were quiet for a few minutes before Mac added, "Jackass."

0-0-0

"Do you think he'll be here for the update and planning session?" Matty asked as she joined Jack at the meeting table in her office.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, Steve just wanted him to hang around for a while and see how he felt once the stuff got into his system."

Matty nodded. "What did the doc say?"

Jack shrugged. "Just the stuff they gave Mac screwed up … some chemical balance mumbo jumbo … Steve gave him a shot of some kinda mood stabilizer thingy … it was …" Jack wracked his brain, but he had never been good about remembering even basic chemical names. He still referred to just about every non-narcotic pain reliever around as aspirin.

"Topiramate," Mac supplied from the doorway.

"That's it!" Jack smiled. He hated having something right on the tip of his tongue. "How ya feelin' now, bud?"

Mac sat down next to Jack, moving slowly, still feeling pretty beat up, but smiling nonetheless. "Other than 100% fed up with the bad guys and our guys using me as an equal opportunity voodoo doll? A lot better."

"You sure about that, Blondie?" Matty asked, taking in his stiff posture and many visible bruises.

"Oh yeah," he assured her. "The stuff you can see is pretty much par for the course when things get weird out there. It was the stuff in my head that was keeping me out of the office."

"And that's really better after one shot?"

"Oh, he's feelin' better, Matty. That's the first real smile I've seen on him in days."

Mac gave Jack a real grin now. "Thanks for putting up with my grumpy ass, partner. And I'm sorry … for … you know … acting like a kid who's been wrongfully grounded."

Jack grinned back. "No apologies necessary, kid. Not on my end anyway. Mel on the other hand …"

"Spent this morning exacting her revenge down in the infirmary," Mac chuckled. "And I did offer to make her dinner tonight."

Matty threw Jack a questioning look but smoothed her face again immediately when he gave her his 'Later, Boss' expression.

Matty returned to business. "How soon do you think you'll be cleared for field work again, Mac?"

He shrugged. "Depends on the work," he answered honestly. "If it's backdoor, underground stuff … As soon as Steve stops being a worse mother hen that Jack." He threw his partner a grin to let him know the jab was a playful one. "But my face is a little roughed up, so if you need me playing smooth operator somewhere, then it's as soon as I'm presentable."

"You don't need to be pretty for what I have in mind," Matty said, with a slight quirk of her lips. "Best guess?"

"I don't know," Mac said with another shrug. He was disinclined to do what he had done in the past and push his way back into the field before he was ready. Trying to just will his way past the drugs he'd been given had taught him that sometimes it wasn't just about being more stubborn than your body, sometimes it was about sitting the hell down and listening to it if you didn't want others to be hurt. Looking back on how tentative Mel and Jack had been around him for the last couple of days, he realized he should have just gone into Medical when they returned, because even though it wasn't serious, and they were both forgiving people, he'd hurt them through his behavior. He was sure of it. "Probably at least ten days or so."

Jack was floored by Mac's honesty, as well as the fact that his partner wasn't just insisting he could go wherever Matty wanted him to, yesterday, and don't spare the throttle on the old time machine. He still thought Mac's estimate was overly generous. "Ten days? That's pretty quick for fractured ribs and a concussion, not to mention …"

"Oh, yeah, well that stuff'll all take weeks to really heal. I just … It's nothing that's ever really kept me out of the field before."

Jack cleared his throat, "Because you probably just didn't report it."

"Whatever, Jack," Mac dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. "Steve just want to keep an eye on the side effects of what they drugged me with, make sure it really gets out of my system and whatever. He said about ten days or so for that."

Matty keyed something in to her tablet. "I'm asking him to come up and give me a status report. If it's going to be too long, I'll assign another opps team to what I've got in the hopper, but if it's feasible, I'd like it to be you guys."

"What've you got cookin', Matilda?"

"The Gorsov your team apprehended in Sacramento is the son of a former high-ranking KGB operative who, we believe, is the actual global head of the Organization. Junior is singing like a canary. No real leverage required. Holding back on pain meds for the bullet you put in his shoulder has been more than enough to motivate him, Jack."

Mac and Jack grinned at each other. "You want to send us in to apprehend Gorsov the elder?" Mac asked, eyes almost sparkling at the prospect.

"I was thinking more along the lines of the sorts of ops DXS used to get called up for. And like the kind you used to get called out for together back in the mountains in your early days."

Jack gave her a very tight smile. "You want us to take him out. Quiet like."

"I do."

Jack glanced at his partner. "You gonna be okay with that, Mac?"

Mac looked at both of them and there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn't really been there before. "Yeah. More than okay."


	19. Chapter 19

Jack was keen to talk about what Mac really thought about the assignment, but Mac managed to keep them busy with details while at the office. He slept a fair amount now that he was able again when they were home. Matty decided they needed to move up the time table since it would afford them an opportunity to go after their mark while he was on vacation, so she'd started looking at other ops teams since it didn't look like Mac would be cleared in time for them to take advantage of that window of opportunity. He added badgering Steve to his list of daily activities. After five days, Steve conceded that if Mac's end of the mission wasn't going to be too physically taxing, he would clear him for it. Jack was determined once they were headed out, he'd just arrange himself right across from Mac on the plane and kind of force a conversation about his head space around the mission, but the minute the team was on the jet, Mac curled up on one of the couches and promptly went to sleep, not even stirring during takeoff.

At first Jack thought maybe he was just faking it again to avoid conversation, but he leaned closer to his partner and whispered, "If you don't quit that, when we get home, I'm gonna tell Mel you said she's cute the other day."

Not a flicker from Mac. Riley, on the other hand, looked up from her laptop. "He said what?"

"Nothin'," Jack answered, but it was said with a big grin. Then he sat back and contemplated Riley for a long moment. He knew Steve was okay with this assignment. The man still occasionally bemoaned the fact that he hadn't been part of the SEAL team that took out Bin Laden. And Jack and Todd were certainly cut from the same cloth. But, he thought to himself, Riley came to this life very differently from the rest of them, and he knew she was still having nightmares about killing Mr. Organization when they'd invaded Phoenix. She just said, "What do you need?" when Matty read her in on this, but Jack wondered if she was really good with it, and if she wasn't, he wanted to know now. This op was essentially his and he wanted it to go off without a hitch.

"So, Ri …" he began.

She looked up with that familiar head tilt and wry quirk to her lips. It was the same expression he'd seen her wear since she was a kid. It said, "Now what?"

"You really okay with the plan?"

She almost laughed. "Yeah, Jack. I'm really okay with taking out the guy that keeps trying to get us all killed. He put out a contract on all of us. Remember?"

Jack nodded. "Not to mention that his goal is to bring down our whole government."

"I'll leave giving a crap about that to you service types," she smirked. "For me? Between knowing he had a hit out on most of us and what he was trying to do to Mac? This mission is personal."

Jack had heard that tone before. From himself. He never expected to hear it from the person who cried for three days when her goldfish died. He said so.

"C'mon, Jack. I'm the sort of person who hired a biker gang to beat the living hell out of one of my mom's shitty abusive boyfriends. If he hadn't left after that, I can't say I wouldn't have found someone to … do what you're going to do to Gorsov." She shrugged, as if to say, "What more can I say?"

He hadn't known that about Riley. He looked in her eyes, and then away again. "Jeez, I'm glad you didn't hate _me_ that much."

"I didn't hate you at all, Jack." She tilted her head to catch his eyes again. When he looked back up at her she grinned. "I mean, I was pretty pissed at you for leaving. But I think you've paid your debts by now."

He smiled. It felt good to have gotten their relationship to this place, where they not only got along, but where they could talk about the past and have it not turn into a fight. "I'll just keep puttin' stuff on the account from time to time, in case I screw up."

"Which you probably will. Or you wouldn't be Jack," she teased. Then she went back to whatever she'd been working on on her laptop.

"You think Mac's really okay with it?" he asked, curious to know what she thought.

She looked back up. "I don't know if Mac's actually okay at all." She shook her head. "All the stuff they pumped him full of … And look at him. He still looks like he got in a bar fight with John Cena."

"Steve says …"

"That he's sick of arguing with him?" Riley smirked.

Jack had to laugh. He didn't think that Mac being Mac was enough to irritate Steve into clearing him prematurely, but it was a fair point. "At least he's with us. And Matty's loosened up the regs so getting Mac somewhere in the general vicinity of Medical is easier."

"Getting him there doesn't seem to be a problem. Lately anyway." She raised her eyebrows. So, Jack thought, she had noticed Mac and Mel's newfound tendency to meet for lunch. "Cooperating with what he ought to be doing is a whole other story."

"Yeah, well, we know from experience that even pretty dinged up we don't much have to worry about him physically."

"But you worry all the time!" she laughed.

"Because it's my job!"

"Sure. Your job. You keep telling yourself that, old man." She shook her head. "And you're probably right ... I'm not worried about mentally either, Jack. We talked about it yesterday, actually."

"Seriously? Because I feel like he's been avoiding talking about it."

Riley just shrugged. It had been kind of an offhand comment.

"He said up to now he felt like if someone wrote his biography it would be called _Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop: The Life and Times of Angus MacGyver_."

Jack grinned. "That's clever as hell. And … kinda accurate."

"Clever and accurate. That's Mac. Anyway, he said he's sick of that. He wants this stuff with the Organization over."

Jack thought about it. Then he nodded. "Okay. He's probably good."

Riley started to ask some more about Jack's plans so she could have the schematics on the staging area and the building where their target was staying up to the minute, but she only got as far as, "Are you still thinking the Cathedral …"

Mac rolled over. "Are you two going to talk all the way to Montenegro?"

"We wake you up?" Jack asked, wondering if Mac had heard them talking about him.

"Yes!" he groused, pushing himself up on his elbow to give them both a dirty look. "You should get some sleep Jack. You know you can't do coffee before an op like this."

Jack chuckled. "Yes, Dad," he said, highly amused at the role reversal, not to mention the fact that his partner had finally figured out how to really sleep on a plane.

"Good!" Mac rolled back over to face the back of the couch and pulled the blanket up.

Jack just shook his head and stretched out himself. The kid had a point.

0-0-0

They approached Montenegro from Italy, over the Adriatic, in a small fishing boat. Riley had taken one look at it and just dug into her pack for seasickness pills. Mac patted her on the shoulder and moved off to talk to the fisherman they'd hired, in, what had become over the last year since committing to learning the language, flawless Italian. Fortunately for the group, Todd spoke decent Croatian which was near enough to Montenegrin to get by. When Riley asked him where he learned it, he just rolled his eyes and told her she didn't want to know. They could see a mountain looming over the bay near Kotor, where Gorsov was vacationing on his yacht, well before they could make out much else.

Mac materialized at Riley's elbow to answer her unspoken question. "That's the Black Mountain itself. Mount Lovcen. We'll be hiking some of the base to get into Kotor unseen."

"It's impressive," she observed, glad they wouldn't be doing much more than hiking the base. It looked like a fine place for mountain goats, but not such a great spot for twenty-somethings from LA who preferred to be indoors at a computer. "I guess I knew Montenegro meant black mountain, but I thought it was a metaphor or something."

Mac laughed. "It sort of is a metaphor, too, I think. Last time Jack and I were here, we were up in the mountains and I swear it was trying to swallow us whole. Like that scene in _The Hobbit_ when …"

She laughed, negating the need to further describe it. "I can picture that exactly."

Their lighthearted mood was short lived since not too long afterward Jack and Todd were going over their gear and discussing their plan to set up two separate nests, with Jack taking the most advantageous position and the first shot, and Todd having a closer, more concealed position to bat clean up if anything went wrong. Mac felt like he shouldn't be okay with this mission, but try as he might, he couldn't find a compelling argument for the world being a better place with Andrei Gorsov in it. Their spirits were further dampened by the hike. Normally it would've been a bit of a lark for Mac, but half his bruises hadn't even started fading yet and his ribs liked to remind him there were some uneven edges grinding together every so often, so they weren't very far in when Steve stepped in and took his pack away from him, redistributing its contents among everyone else's. He couldn't even be mad about it; it was too much of a relief to not be carrying it.

When the got to the outskirts of town, Todd worked his usual magic and found them a vacant house in which to set up shop. Like any city patronized by the wealthy elite for entertainment, the hidden poverty left plenty of room for the sorts of environments covert operatives depended on. Once their home base was reasonably set, the team prepared to go out to the marina and gather intel on their target. Riley was staying behind to offer remote tech support and manage the comms. Todd was outfitted to fit in the with local merchant crowd that peddled to the wealthy residents and visitors to the downtown area of Kotor. Jack and Steve were heading out disguised as ship's crew for one of several American yachts in the harbor, knowing that talking to support staff was usually the best way to discover movements, plans, and weaknesses in any individual's security. Mac was currently in the small bathroom trying to use a truly inadequate and ancient mirror to put the finishing touches on his own disguise, that of a wealthy young tourist with an expensive camera and more in the way of good looks, and certainty that daddy's money could get him out of any untenable situation, than good sense. Riley was worried that someone on Gorsov's team would recognize Mac, since they obviously had a pretty serious spy crush on him, and Bozer's disguise kit had not included any heavy-duty prosthetics that Riley had seen.

"Are you almost done in there, kid?" Jack called. He wanted to reassure himself of the disguise, too, before they all headed out.

"Yeah! You don't need to wait for me though," he answered, somewhat muffled by the door.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Last minute check list. You know I'm not leavin' without knowing we have this down."

He couldn't actually hear Mac's sigh through the door, but he imagined he could and smiled. When Mac stepped out a minute or two later Riley covered her mouth in surprise. "Oh my God!" she said, muffled by her fingers. Then she took her hand away. "You look like a completely different person and you didn't even change your face at all!"

"Other than the makeup to cover the bruises and the hideous spray tan on top," he amended, almost laughing at her shocked expression. The temporary hair color the lab had developed changed his normally sunny blond tousled hair, now worn slicked back away from his face, to a shiny black, including his eyebrows. Even his eyelashes had a coat of pigment on them. His blue eyes were hidden behind stunning light green contacts. The change in his coloring, combined with the sort of strategically tight light pink polo shirt and carefully pressed khaki shorts and clunky expensive sandals and equally clunky and expensive watch projected the very image of wealthy young American on vacation. Mac pulled self-consciously at the polo. "Do I look like as big a tool as I feel like I do?" he asked with a grin.

"Definitely!" Riley laughed, but followed up with, "Don't smile out there. I was just thinking that I never would have recognized you in a million years and then you smiled. I'd know that expression anywhere no matter what you looked like around it."

Jack agreed. "You do have a sort of signature smile, kid."

Mac shook his head. "I'll do my best to hide behind the camera a lot and look haughty and above all this."

"I wouldn't have recognized you, Mac," Todd offered. "I think these guys are just a little over-protective."

Mac shrugged. "Usually." He paused. "So, two hours out and about, report by comms as needed. Back here by the two-point-five mark." He glanced at Jack. "That about cover it?"

"Back here _immediately_ if you get so much as a sniff someone is on to you," Jack admonished.

"Yes, Dad. That means you, too."

Jack gave a curt nod. "Alright. Move out."

0-0-0

Mac moved through the pleasant crush of the square with deliberate ease. He'd probably pushed the envelope of what was wise, even for a less physically demanding mission, because every other self-absorbed tourist who bumped into him reminded him that he'd had the living crap beaten out of him less than a week ago. Fortunately, that didn't happen too much since he slipped into the persona of an entitled tourist projecting 'get out of my way or some security guard you don't even see will level you' and people seemed reasonably intent on staying out of his way. He stopped at a few market stalls; making a particular purposeful stop to get some of the local _krofne_ , a jam filled donut that he was pretty sure beat every other fried pastry he'd ever tried. He'd gotten a chocolate filled one the last time he was in country, but that had been in Podgorica, the capital. He wondered if that was a regional thing. Both were sublime regardless. He decided that unless he was on the move for more urgent reasons, he'd stop back by the stall and bring some back to their little squatter's den. These beat the hell out of the rations they'd packed.

He shook his head to himself when he realized it took longer to get near the harbor than he'd thought, simply because he kept having to fend off the advances of numerous other young people, and one woman who had to be at least Jack's age and who was particularly persistent. It was pleasant that so many people here spoke either English or Italian since that meant he didn't have to ask Todd for any translations or fumble with the app on his phone, although frankly he thought that added to the tourist persona nicely, so he did it a few times even when he understood the speaker perfectly well. We learned that Thursdays were common supply run days for the yachts in the harbor since there were apparently more locals around to take on those sorts of cash jobs. He quietly passed the information on to the team. Jack had heard the same thing from someone's First Mate, so they had confirmation. Saturdays were apparently the day the wealthy often came in to play, on the beach, in the clubs, at one of the finer hotels or restaurants.

Mac glanced at his ridiculous watch, that he thought probably cost as much as his jeep back home. Not that he was above spending money on high quality items when the urge took him, but this thing was barely functional as a time piece and, in his opinion anyway, failed completely as jewelry as well. He didn't have much time left, so he decided to use the camera he'd brought along for its intended purpose. After another quarter hour, he spotted Gorsov's yacht, Правда, which Mac mentally translated to _Pravda_ or 'Truth' in English. He made a face. The yacht shared a name with a popular newspaper with Marxist leanings. Fitting, he thought, for a man who'd gotten rich and fat off the corruption of the government that used any ideology including Marxism for its own ends since the fall of the Czar. He brought the camera up and adjusted the settings for zooming in, hoping to get a glimpse of the man himself. When he did, he sent the image immediately to the rest of the team.

"Kinda wish you were here right now, Jack. We could be on our way home by dinner time."

Jack's voice came back a little hesitant. "Well, then so do I, partner, but …"

"What, Jack?" Mac's question was a little short sounding. Jack's voice had the beginnings of Papa bear mode in it, and Mac was in no mood. Especially because the makeup had started to itch and he wanted a shower more than anything and there was only cold water in the place they were holed up in.

After a minute Todd was the one who answered. "I think the big guy is worried you have a problem with taking this bastard out, Mac. It's not your usual."

Mac snapped another, even better, picture, and caught the arm candy the Russian had brought along. She was maybe Mac's age. He made another face. "Jack, I'm good. I told you. Did I ever have a problem spotting for you in Afghanistan?"

Mac rarely brought up the war on his own, unless he was deadly serious. "No, sir," Jack finally answered.

"I don't have a problem now. He's a terrorist. Cut from the same cloth as any of those guys. He's the one who made this personal, Jack. I've got us the confirmation that he's here we wanted and we have a sense of likely movement. Let's just do the job and go home."

"Alright, man. I'm sorry." Jack didn't say the rest; that he was sorry for doubting his partner's commitment to the mission, sorry for letting his protective streak out to play here and now.

"We got what we came for," Steve's voice joined the conversation. "Let's meet back up at the house."

"You guys go head in." Mac zoomed the camera in further. "There's some activity on the yacht. Give me five or so."

"Mac, what's ..?" Jack began.

"Shit," Mac bit out. "Shit, shit, shit. We're going to have to scrub the mission."

"What the hell do you mean scrub it?" Jack's voice rose just a little. "We're here, he's here, we know when he'll come into town or we can hit him on the deck. What more do you want?"

"Jack," Mac's voice held unwelcome urgency. "He's got company. We can't do this."

"You may remember this but a whole goddamned wedding party hasn't ever stopped me before," Jack practically snarled.

Mac shook his head, as though his teammates could see him. "The man is here with his grandkids."


	20. Chapter 20

Mac found himself quite unable to sit still during the team's call with Matty. Rather than fidget in his chair like a middle schooler, he did what he usually did and got up and paced the small room. A frustrated puff of breath preceded his words, "So, we'll just wait until his little family vacation is over, and take care of this when he gets back to Moscow."

"Mac, do you really think I'm going to risk sending a team into Moscow in the current political climate to take out one man?"

"We were just in Russia six months ago!" he asserted.

"A lot's changed in the last few months. Too risky. I understand what you guys are saying. I do. But this is our best chance to get rid of Gorsov and destabilize the Organization."

Jack's eyes followed Mac around the room. He didn't love the idea of leveling this guy in a group full of kids either. Too much could go wrong too easily. But, if Matty believed it was their only opportunity, Jack had also been involved in these sorts of operations enough to know that if your chances were slim you took whatever one's presented themselves. Still, for Mac's benefit, he asked, "Well, then, do you have any suggestions, Matty?"

"Do what you always do. Improvise. I don't care how you tag this guy's toe, just get it done." Matty ended the call.

Mac ran his hands through his still-colored hair and when he took them away he saw his palms were vaguely green from the dye. _Great_. Mac flopped down in one of the chairs across from Jack and flinched at it sent a painful jolt through his whole still-battered body. He glanced around at everyone. "So … what do you guys think?"

Steve tipped his chin toward Mac. "I think you're right that it's wrong to kill that man in front of those kids if we can help it." Then he tipped his chin toward Jack. "I also think Jack and Matty are right and it may not be avoidable."

Several heads nodded. Mac scrubbed his hands over his face. He was thinking darkly about what it was like to, as a small child, watch someone die. The idea of being responsible for inflicting that on a kid made him sick to his stomach. But regardless of his feelings, they did have a mission. And the mission didn't care about his feelings. He slowly nodded. Maybe they could find a way to separate the man from the group he was with before Jack did his thing.

Steve was looking at him thoughtfully. "I might have an idea …"

0-0-0

Their boat moved silently through the dark water. Every once in a while, they had to make a minor course correction to stay out of the light falling from the other yachts in the harbor. The plan was simple. Riley was waiting in an alley near the harbor with their getaway car that would take them as close as possible to the exfil point in Dubrovnik in Croatia, just across the border. She was just glad they weren't going back out by boat. Steve was covering the dark beach near where they planned to disembark. Todd would cover the boat itself, keeping it out of sight of the yacht crew and close enough to easily pick his teammates up when the job was done. It meant he had to keep their small craft near the stern where the ropes they'd used to climb of were there for their escape, but he was pretty comfortable handling it. He'd spend a lot of time on the water as a kid and the harbor was especially calm tonight.

There had been a fairly heated argument between MacGyver and Jack about which of them would cover the deck and which of them would dose the sleeping terrorist with the heart medication Steve had suggested to simulate cardiac arrest, an unsuspicious and relatively un-traumatic for survivors means to an end. Jack argued it should be him to deal with Gorsov since he thought Mac still had a problem with the plan. Mostly he wanted to protect his partner from being directly responsible for killing the guy. He just wasn't sure that wouldn't end badly. Mac argued back that of course he still had a problem with the plan because one way or another those kids were going to suffer for being in the same place their grandfather died, but that he liked it a hell of a lot better than blowing the guy's brains all over the street on market day. He just snapped that covering the deck was a better job for the guy with the heavy firearms.

"What the hell am I gonna do if three or four security guys head for his bedroom all at once?"

Jack had just grinned. "Improvise." Then he offered for perhaps the ten thousandth time since they'd met, "Or I'd be happy to loan ya one of my backup pieces."

Then Mac had come back with, "You realize the poison's in a syringe, right? Like you have to stick a needle in the guy to do the job." Jack had cocked an eyebrow at him. "You can't even look at fake injections on TV without turning green. I'm the better choice for this."

Jack gave a derisive snort. "You don't like 'em either."

"I've got no problem as long as I'm not the one on the pointy end, Jack."

It was clear they could keep up the argument to counter-argument cycle for days. When they couldn't reach an agreement, Riley stepped in and called a coin toss. Mac got the dubious privilege of delivering the poison. Jack, to his credit, only had a minor fit about it. It ended quickly when Riley suggested they agree to eliminate coin tosses, dice rolls, and card draws from their team's decision-making process altogether, including whose turn it was to buy food or beer. Mac snickered when that shut Jack up. Mac was pretty sure Jack often cheated at those and now he was even more convinced.

In retrospect, once they were climbing up the side of the boat in the dark and slipping onto the deck, Jack decided it was the right division of labor. Once they'd really talked about it, Jack realized that not only was Mac okay with the plan, he needed to be a part of it. The Organization had done so much to disrupt his life, to turn it upside down, to the point of kidnapping him with the intent to do him real harm. Mac needed to be part of putting them out of commission, or Jack thought he wouldn't feel he was back in control. Also, the kid was fast like a freak and so quiet moving crouched down under the rail that Jack thought, not for the last time, that the kid must have super powers.

The ship was eerily quiet. So far Jack hadn't seen a single security guard. He moved from behind some fishing equipment, risking being a little more in the open to get a look around the deck. Nothing. That was weird. Doing surveillance, they hadn't seen less than three guys on deck at any given time. He considered breaking radio silence to check in with what Mac was seeing, but they agreed that was only for emergencies because it had been hard to get a bead on what these guys had for tech.

In the dark hallway below the main deck, Mac was moving silently along the wall, wondering at the quiet and almost total darkness at well, when he tripped over something large. He risked the small light on his key chain. Security guard. One neat hole through his forehead. _Well, that's less than ideal_ , he thought. He whispered, "I got a body. Security."

Jack swore, then answered. "Got nothin' up top. Any other movement so far?"

"Negative. I'm almost to the master bedroom."

There were a few moments of silence so complete that Jack because irrationally sure that someone had gotten to Mac and was nearly ready to go looking when the voice of a partner clearly on the move said, "We need to get out of here. Now."

"Copy," Jack replied and did his part to notify the rest of the team and get ready to climb as Mac practically ran onto the deck. They were already rappelling down the side of the yacht when Jack managed, "Job done?"

"Done before we got here," Mac grunted, dropping into the waiting boat.

Their small craft was already in motion, now operating with its small motor instead of the oars they'd approached with. Todd and Jack both gave him a look, although it was too dark for any of them to know it. That was okay. Mac didn't have to see their faces to know the silent questioning look his was surely getting.

"We got a boat full of bodies there, guys. The mark, his lady friend, and at least four security guard, all single GSWs to the head."

"Any sign of those kids?" Jack asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

Now Mac could see his face from the city lights as they approached the shore. "No. I didn't exactly hang around to do a thorough search, but I opened all the doors on the bedroom level and all the rooms looked slept in, but empty. And there was …" Mac trailed off as they approached Steve on the doc. "We'll talk on the plane," Mac finished. They were going to be too busy for explanations for a while.

And they were. No one wanted to be found anywhere near the unconcealed execution style scene on that yacht since getting made as government agents with regard to anything resembling an extrajudicial action like taking out a crime boss could start an international incident that would at best be avoided be leaving them in the wind and disavowing them or at worst involve them on trial in another country. By the time they reached the Italian city of Bari and got back on the Phoenix jet, the whole team was pale, dirty, and exhausted. Mac looked a little wild around the eyes, but he didn't say much while they loaded up and got off the ground. As soon as they were in the air, Mac took his cell phone and a folded paper out of his jacket pocket. He got on the cell to Matty as he passed Jack the paper.

Jack could feet the hair standing up on his neck as he looked at it. On the outside was written in a strangely neat scrawl ' _Dear Boy_ '.

Matty must have picked up because Mac spoke without preface, "Tell me Murdoc is still in custody."

Jack could imagine both sides of the conversation since Mac listened for a minute and then laid out what they had found in the harbor off Kotor – a ghost ship. Then Mac asked, "As you sure? And that's definitely a live feed? … Okay … I … because there was a paper on Gorsov's body addressed to 'Dear Boy' and inside … It says, 'The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven' ..." He paused, swallowing hard. "Then underneath that, it says, 'Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.' Those are from _Paradise_ …"

There was another pause. Mac nodded, finally easing himself down onto one of the couches.

"Jack and I will head right to the Interrogation wing as soon as we land."


	21. Chapter 21

Mac sat across from their subject, leaning back in his chair. To outside observers passing by the one-way glass in the Observation Room his posture looked casual, unconcerned. To Jack, he could see Mac's desire to be as physically far away from Murdoc as possible while still doing the job. Of course, Jack was also thinking that he never had to really worry about Mac holding his own. Murdoc was still pretty beat up, even a couple of weeks out from his encounter with Mac, with yellowing bruises and a couple sets of stitches that still needed to come out, not to mention a nose that needed the attention of a good plastic surgeon to get it back into its proper shape. Jack just gave him another tight smile. "Is this gonna be a starin' contest? Because I always win at those. Ask anybody."

Mac glanced at Jack and an almost-smile touched his eyes. "Who left the note? And why did they do it?"

"My dear boy," the man paused, reveling in the young agent's look of discomfort. "Angus," he paused again for the same reason, tasting the name and enjoying the way those blue eyes narrowed like the sound pained him. Since he had revealed to his therapist in the files the Organization obtained that he didn't go by his first name because it reminded him painfully of his mother and of the life his family had before her death, Murdoc was always careful to use it, the sharp edges of it, anyway. "You know who that note had to be from. But it is awfully intriguing that it got there, isn't it?"

"I know it's from you. Your handwriting. Your MO, no question. But you're here. And you and your sister more or less sent us there. Why?"

"You know how I love my little games, Angus."

Mac nodded. "And you must know that I … I'm tired of playing."

He pinned Murdoc with a stare the killer should have been more than familiar with. It was the same one he'd been wearing right before he'd nearly choked him all those months ago. Instead of familiar satisfaction, Murdoc shifted uncomfortably. "Well," he said slowly. "One does tire of losing, I suppose."

Mac smirked (although anyone could see it was a real effort). "You'll have to let me know what it's like sometime."

Jack snickered. The kid was bringing the snark hard today. Jack approved. Humor, even the mean-spirited sarcastic kind, was a better way to deal with facing Murdoc than Mac's more typical introspective method that just put him more into his own head. "Yeah, man," Jack drawled. "All Mac does is kick your ass. Ain't you tired a that yet?"

The man just blinked slowly, his eyes traveling over Mac, taking his measure. "Indeed," he said softly. "My whole situation must trouble you deeply, a problem solver like you." He met Mac's eyes for a minute, then looked away.

"I think you're simpler than you would have us believe," Mac said cooly, and the eyes across from him narrowed, the expression darkened.

"I think I'm like an unsolvable riddle. Like in _Alice in Wonderland_. I'm the raven. Just this dark inexplicable thing." Something like amusement cross Mac's face and the man couldn't quite help himself. "You can't solve me any more than Alice could solve the riddle. Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Jack frowned at the grin that flashed across Mac's face. "Because one is 'nevar' backward and the other is for words," he answered simply, with no hesitation.

The man's mouth dropped slightly at the quick response. "But … That's … oh, that's quite good. I've never heard that one!" There was some vague genuine amusement on the face.

Mac lifted his eyes steadily to meet the gaze of their subject. "You're not him."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You should," Mac said quietly. "You should practice begging something. Because you're not Murdoc. And Matty will authorize whatever Jack wants to do to find out who you really are."

"Of course, I'm ..!"

"Your eyes aren't the right color," Mac said, almost with pity.

"I have brown eyes, just like I always have!" the man defended.

Jack was studying Mac carefully. Was this a drug flashback or was the kid on to something? "Mac ..?" he began.

"Look, Jack, really look at him. There're these little flecks of green in his eyes, almost like Ri has, or like the gold in yours …" Mac trailed off. Jack thought to himself he'd better look closer because his partner never missed a trick and had pattern recognition that put both computers and prize German Shepherds to shame.

"Well … I'll be damned," Jack murmured after a minute.

"I'm … I'm me!" came the heated reply. "Of course I am, don't you even ..?"

Mac smiled, ever so slightly. "Listen man, I've looked into those shark's eyes before. They're all cold and dark with nothing moving in them but shadow and even humor looks like pain. Your eyes aren't like that." Mac paused dramatically. "So, who are you, really?"

"Grasping at straws; poor Angus. You can see for yourself who I am."

Mac nodded slowly. "A brother. Very like, but not identical. Younger. At first I thought it was the beating you took, but … When I saw two of you for a second in Sacramento … I thought it was the drugs, but there really were two of you."

The man's eyes grew rounder, and he almost shrunk back from the intensity of the blue gaze on his face, taking in every detail, every imperfection. "It _was_ the drugs," the man insisted, but his voice wavered this time, lost some of the perfectly rehearsed menace.

Mac glanced at his partner. "What do you think, Jack?"

Jack gave the prisoner a cold smile, allowing his eyes to harden. "I think you're onto somethin'." The man opposite them flinched a little at the tone of Jack's voice. "Hey, there, Director Webber?"

"Yes, Agent Dalton," came the reply over the speakers in the room.

"You prepared to authorize some quality alone time with this prisoner for yours truly."

"One moment." There was a pause. "Oversight is willing to authorize that, yes."

The last of the color drained from their prisoner's face, making his fading bruises stand out.

Mac and Jack stood at the same time. Jack gave the man in the chair an almost pitying look. "Have someone move him downstairs," Jack said with an icy confidence that made even Mac give him a second look. He didn't dust off that particular voice and persona very often.

"Wait!" the man snapped. "I'm Murdoc. I can prove it to you." His eyes moved around the room like he was trying to settle on something. "I shot Patricia Thornton … And I did it just to get under your skin."

Mac shook his head. "Shooting the Director of Operations of the clandestine government organization your little terrorist group most wants to bring down isn't exactly a piece of knowledge I would expect any member of it not to have."

The man swallowed. "I kidnapped your Dad … and your biological father right along with him." This time he managed to give them both a cool speculative look.

Mac shook his head. "Common knowledge at Phoenix and with the Organization." Then Mac rolled his eyes. "And, you know, good for you for figuring out that I'm close to the guy who's been watching my back for pushing a decade. That's a real leap."

Two guards had arrived at the door to take him downstairs for less formal, and probably much more effective, questioning with Jack.

Ignoring the prisoner for a moment, Mac looked at Jack. "What're your plans?"

"Oh, I was gonna get one of our buddies from Medical to dose this bastard with some of the stuff they used on you and see how his brain likes it."

Mac nodded, as their prisoner was clearly reaching his own breaking point already. "That seems reasonable. I mean, it was designed to work on someone well-trained to resist interrogation, so even if he has been … and … my guess is that he hasn't, not extensively anyway … it should get us what we need without too many hours wasted," Mac offered blandly, like this was the sort of conversation they had every day.

"What about you?" Jack asked, like they were alone in the room.

"I was going to get Riley digging in to the family angle, see what's out there."

Jack motioned for the two guards to come into the room. He and Mac watched as they shackled their subject for transport to the more secluded interrogation rooms. Jack gave the man a perfectly predatory smile as he walked by. Then he reached out and squeezed his shoulder, right at the top where the nerve bundle was closest to the surface. He was gratified to see the man's eyes narrow. "Say," Jack said with real anticipation in his voice. "I wonder if that whole not being able to feel pain thing is genetic. Like, can you? Feel pain, I mean," Jack clarified with something like pleasure in his voice.

The man braced himself against the door suddenly resisting being led away. "Fine. I'm not Murdoc. I admit it. And I'm willing to talk. For a price."

Jack shook his head with another menacing grin. "I don't make deals with stone cold killers, or their lookalike brothers who help them. Especially when those selfsame assholes have beat up and drugged my partner, played mind games with my team. Get him downstairs," he ordered the guard closest to him. "I'll be right down. I just need to stop off and ask a favor at Medical."

Mac gave Jack a quick approving raise of his eyebrows and turned toward their prisoner. "I'm traditionally a lot less interested in beating the hell out of drugged prisoners than either you or my partner. I might be persuaded to work on some sort of deal …" He trailed off with a reserved expression on his face, not quite looking at Jack.

The man sagged visibly with relief at even the chance. He spoke all in one breath, desperate to try to negotiate before he was left alone with any of Phoenix's interrogation squad, most of all Jack Dalton, who his brother liked to disparage to his young blond mark, but who had a more than healthy respect for the man's skill and dedication. "My name is Ashton Cooke. The man you know as Murdoc is my brother … Andrew." Our birth name was Conrad, but that was a fake name, too. I don't know what our real family name is. Our parents … died … When Katie … that's our sister … I don't know how much she's told you … Anyway, when we were very small. The little boy you thought belonged to Drew, belongs to me. That's my son, Kyle. I want witness protection for me, for Katie, and for Kyle and I swear I'll tell you everything I know about my brother and the people he works for."

Mac smiled and gave a short nod to the guards who started leading the man away again. He called after them, "I'll see if I can work with that. Jack will let you know when he meets you downstairs."

Both men leaned up against the wall as the prisoner disappeared around the corner, still trying to convince someone to listen to him. Mac sighed. "That was not how I was expecting this to go."

"Creepy Dude's got sibs? Yeah. Unwelcome information for the gene pool, if not for us."

This time Mac chuckled a little. "Yeah, well, it looks like interrogation will actually get us somewhere."

Jack nodded. "Seems like."

"What are you going to do?"

"Make sure he's properly motivated to be completely truthful."

"How's that?"

"I thought maybe I'd scare him a little more before offering him the protection he wants."

"You're gonna scare him?" Mac asked wryly, thinking the man had lived with Murdoc so scary had to be a relative term.

"Pain is scary," Jack answered with a slight smirk, and headed toward the elevator, still fully intending to stop off at Medical, just so he had that as a threat, if nothing else. He grinned when Mac got on the elevator with him and pushed the button for the Medical floor. "You gonna come with me and be scary? 'Cause I don't want to burst your bubble, but you don't do so hot at that."

"I was just keeping you company."

"Keeping me company between here and the basement." He raised an eyebrow.

Mac shook his head. "Just as far as Medical. Mel's getting off work. I thought I'd buy her some dinner while you scare a guy."

Jack looked him over for the long minute between the floors. When the doors opened Mel was walking their way and Mac's face split into an immediate grin as he stepped of the elevator to meet her.

"Good," Jack said quietly, to no one in particular.


	22. Chapter 22

The full department being called in at once for a briefing was unusual, but nobody could deny that so was the information being passed on. None of it was new to Jack, so he was kicked back, taking in the faces of the agents around him. Once again, Matty mentioned Mac's name and several people turned and glanced at him. Jack was amused to note his partner running a hand self-consciously through his hair. The dye he'd used to alter his appearance in Montenegro hadn't behaved exactly as it had in the lab so he'd spent a couple of days washing the remnants of it out of his normally sandy hair. It had looked vaguely green. Everyone, including people who didn't know him all that well, had started making Joker references around the office.

He'd finally gotten fed up when for the fifth time yesterday someone walked by and said, "Why so serious?" He'd taken matters into his own hands and backward engineered his own solvent and neutralizer. He was a little lighter blond that was usual for the time of year, but after the green, it was pretty unremarkable. Still, Jack had to smile. If he was worried about his hair, he clearly wasn't overly caught up in the briefing. Which was good, as far as Jack was concerned. Mac had spent too much of the last six months or so at the very center of all of this, without the pressure letting up for so much as a minute. Now things, this phase of them anyway, were winding down.

They were probably going to be given a couple of weeks leave to rest and regroup after everything, which meant that, for a change, Mac would actually really heal up after the thrashing he'd taken at the hands of Murdoc's lackeys. It also meant a chance for Jack to head home for Texas for a week or so, visit his family … and drop by to see Sarah and Fred. Granted it was hours from the ranch, but she'd casually mentioned that if it was too long a drive from the old homestead he could crash in her spare bedroom. It was technically the nursery, but Fred had made her preference for sleeping next to her mama known from day one, so the room was basically a spare with a futon and lots of diapers. And she was hoping he would. She had something she really wanted to talk to him in person about. He didn't know quite what to make of that, but it sent a pleasant thrill down his spine whenever he thought of it.

He was wondering if Mac would take his mom up on her invitation for Mac to come along to Texas for a nice visit (and some determined Ma Dalton feeding; no matter how often Mac assured her that he knew how to eat just fine, she was always trying to ' _put some meat on that boy_ '). He thought about leaning over to mention it, since it seemed like this little gathering would break up here any minute and he wanted to be ready the minute Matty gave them the green light to leave the office behind for a little while, when his ears perked up for a relevant question from an agent down front.

"So, to clarify, Director Webber, are you saying the Organization no longer exists?"

Matty shook her head. "I'm not saying that at all. Obviously, simple removal of the titular head of any well-organized group doesn't negate its existence. However, our intel indicates that it is in chaos. Its leader was apparently executed by their chief assassin, which has people scrambling. That should advantage us in the next few months."

"Was Murdoc making a play for the top spot?"

Jack noticed Mac shift uncomfortably at the other agent's question. The two of them had kicked that question around a lot this week. Not that they'd reached any conclusions themselves. That was worse than knowing the bastard had a plan. Matty once again shook her head. "It doesn't appear to be the case. In fact, given what we've gleaned from our new informant, it actually appears that he, along with some other hired killers, have been making small moves to destabilize the Organization for several months now."

"So, what does that mean, in your opinion, Director?" asked an agent from the back.

"It means very likely that something new is on the horizon. And Murdoc is probably behind it."

"And it means," Mac added, all heads turning his way. "That we have a real opportunity to bring down the remnants of the Organization while we're waiting and intel gathering on whatever it is Murdoc is up to. We just got very busy."

Matty gave him a small smile. "Some of us did anyway, Agent MacGyver." Mac smirked and shook his head. He knew what she was about to say. "Your team, however, is excused from the rest of this briefing. And I don't want to see you back here for two weeks. Except of course for Mr. and About-to-be-Mrs. Bozer. I don't want to see either of them for a month, meaning until after their honeymoon. Not at work anyway. So, pass that on, you know, on your way out the door."

Leave it to Matty to leave no wiggle room for their continued involvement for the time being. He supposed it was fair. Absent the spray tan and the distraction of accidentally green hair, the yellowing bruises all over his face were painfully evident, and no one involved forgot that a couple punches to the face were the least of what had happened to him. Mac gave her a very pointed look, but got to his feet, slinging his coat over his shoulder. Jack and the rest of the team followed his lead. Jack grinned at their boss. "Hey, there, Director, you just give us a jingle if these Organization types give you any trouble."

She shook her head. There was general subdued laughter all around. Everyone still wondered exactly what was behind the dynamics in the relationship between the two, but no one failed to notice that they could break tension for the other like the oldest of friends. "I've got you on speed dial. Now get out of here. Jackass." More laughter followed them out the door.

When they'd made their way to the break room on the executive floor, they talked for a few minutes. Riley was headed to a conference she'd been planning on going to for months anyway and had been crossing her fingers a mission wouldn't get in the way, since the conference happened to be in Honolulu and might afford her and Kalei the opportunity to get together for some face to face time instead of the two-dimensional digital equivalent. Jack was impressed that they'd managed to start something of a relationship after just a few short days in each other's company and then just through their digital connections. Todd planned to be a hermit and watch the run up to the Superbowl as his most active plans for the two weeks. Steve had a houseful of projects that took more than one set of hands to get done, so he and his wife were going to, as he put it, "Take a page out of Mac's book and go full DIY." The fact that the baby was well on his way to walking certainly complicated the to-do list for everyone, even with the other kids around to help. Jack revealed his plans to go visit 'family'. When Ri asked what Mac was going to do with his time off, Steve helpfully suggested, "Actually resting. That's totally what he's going to do."

Mac grinned and shook his head, shrugging. Jack had been dropping hints about Texas, but he'd sort of been ignoring him. He wanted Jack to have some space to see Sarah and he didn't feel like his partner would really take his time if he also had Mac to entertain. So, he hadn't really made plans. He'd honestly been hoping Matty wouldn't do her usual enforced R&R after a mission. As the rest of the group dispersed, Mac headed down to the lab to let Bozer and Beth know that they, as sort-of team members, just got themselves an extra week's vacation on top of what they'd requested for the wedding and honeymoon. Jack followed, hands in his pockets. "You were really hoping to just keep working the case, huh?" Jack asked, unnecessarily.

Mac shrugged again. "Yeah. I get it though. Nobody performs at their best if they never get a break."

"Or if they keep trying to work with cracked ribs," Jack teased.

Mac glanced at him. "That either."

After breaking the good news to Boze and Beth, and being hugged with uncomfortable enthusiasm, the pair found themselves in Mac's office so he could tie up a few loose ends. Jack, who'd been sure enough of the leave to tie up his own before the briefing, sat with his feet up, playing casually with his phone. He looked at Mac a few times, but when he realized his partner was done working and was trying to look busy, while keeping an eye on the clock, he got a little suspicious. "Hey, bud, if you really don't have plans, Ma said she'd love to see you. We missed Christmas and New Year's, but she's always lookin' for a reason to throw a party, you know."

Mac grinned, stuffing some papers in his bag. "By party you mean an opportunity to cook an obscene amount of food and try to get me to eat all of it."

"Hey, she's gotta be able to fatten up one of her boys."

"She's got your brother for that!" Mac laughed.

Jack grinned too. Since getting married last year, his brother had discovered there was something to be said for working shorter hours and enjoying the comforts of home. Not that he'd actually fattened up, per say, but there was not going to be any of the place switching shenanigans the two boys had gotten up to in their younger days, at the moment. Jack was still far too lean, still too close to his fighting weight for that. Mac finally wrapped up what he was apparently doing and nodded toward the door. They walked to the elevator together, Jack paying more attention to his partner than to the trip. "You think you might wanna tag along? I know Ma would really be thrilled. The rest of the crew, too."

Mac looked half wistful. "I'd love to, but …" He shook his head. "I've got too many best man duties and stuff to take care of the next week for so."

"Did you write your speech yet?"

"Speech? What do you mean speech?"

Jack smirked as they got off the elevator. He fell into step beside Mac. "You are familiar with the concept of the best man speech?" Mac looked like a deer caught in the headlights, or perhaps more accurately, the high school kid who's realized the term paper is due tomorrow and he hasn't started it. "Mac, c'mon."

"I … I mean …" He leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm familiar with the concept. Obviously. But … Bozer doesn't expect me to … He never said I … I'm giving a best man speech at that damned wedding, aren't I?"

Mel's voice right on his elbow made Jack jump. "Well, I certainly hope so, because something better make wearing those four inch foot torture devices of doom worth the pain!"

That caught Mac off guard and he laughed. There had been a fair amount of complaining about the ridiculous shoes Beth had chosen for the bridal party all along, but now that the event was imminent and Mel could think of no good reason to get out of actually putting them on, it had escalated. Mac shook his head. "Because you have to suffer, I have to too, huh?" She grinned at them. "Given our typical dynamic on this floor, at least in the past, that feels a little unfair."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh, believe me, the entire nursing staff has suffered every time you've ever been stuck here. So, we're even, far as I'm concerned."

"I can attest to their suffering," Jack offered with his usual mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Mac was almost indignant. "Nope! No way! You don't get to pretend that you're aren't as huge a pain in the ass as I am when you are anywhere near this floor for anything other than badgering me!"

Mal laughed. "He's right, dude. _He_ just hates it here. _You_ are a hella big baby." She laughed harder. "Oh, don't you give me those puppy dog eyes! They don't work when you're here in a bed and they aren't worth a damn in the lobby either."

Mac gave him the 'busted!' look. "See."

Mel elbowed him playfully. "I did just hear you admit to being a pain in the ass though. Just for future reference."

He shook his head and put up his hands. "Fair. You win."

"What're you guys doing down here anyway? Didn't Matty bounce you for a few days?" She didn't allow herself to sound concerned, and they'd certainly been here more semi-socially than history could ever have predicted, but it had been a rough couple of months, necessitating an above average amount of putting that particular ops team back together again.

Jack let her off the hook. "I don't know what the hell I'm doin' down here. I gotta go pack for my little trip home. I was just following Mac."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You need a band aid or is this a social call?"

"I … Jack's leaving and I've got the house to myself for a couple of days. I was just thinking we could maybe have dinner tomorrow, if you're still off work. You won't get called out for us, and Marcus's team is already in the field. You could, come over and, you know, discuss our upcoming duties in the big festivities or something."

"So … you mean pretend the wedding isn't happening and neither one of us have to get dressed up like it's the first day of school, and we can ignore our responsibilities, eat pizza, and watch _Star Trek the Next Generation_ on blu-ray?"

Mac laughed and put his hands in his pockets. "That's pretty much what I meant exactly."

"Sure!" she gave him a sunny smile that went with a quick wrinkle of her nose, and then she spun on her heel and headed in the direction of the sounds of someone knocking over a cart, with an eyeroll and a quick wave in their direction.

The two men headed back toward the hallway, choosing to take the one flight of stairs the rest of the way to the parking garage. Jack was chuckling under his breath. "What?" Mac finally asked as they climbed into his Jeep.

"Best man duties? And here I was gonna tell that to my mama and it's a boldfaced lie."

Mac widened his eyes innocently. "I totally have best man duties."

"And?" Jack's eyebrows went up with amusement.

Mac started the Jeep. "I said ' _and stuff_ ', Jack."

Jack was still chuckling when they were pulling out of the parking lot, thinking to himself, "I actually think Ma will be pretty happy to hear that."


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N - Hey, shipper friends, this one's for you. I was going to combine it with another chapter, but you've been so patient, you deserve your own chapter._

 _~ J_

Watching Mac cook from her bar stool in the kitchen was far more entertaining than sitting in front of the television. It was like watching some sort of bizarre science experiment with everything precisely weighed out (Mac didn't trust volumetrics for his ingredients) or its temperature measured. However, it had the amusing added wrinkle of the experimenter sticking spoons into what he was doing, tasting it, and tossing the spoons into the sink, confounded when the precise directions didn't yield the result he expected.

She didn't say so, but she was glad she hadn't offered to do the washing up after because he had legitimately trashed the place. This was their third meal together in as many nights and they'd both decided they'd had enough take out. They'd flipped a coin for who would cook and she couldn't say she was disappointed that Mac lost, since she preferred his house to her small apartment, but watching him work was certainly a sight to behold. Jack said he was that way in the field, too; although you'd never know it from his small lab or office which were so neat and carefully organized they often looked unused, despite common knowledge to the contrary.

He glanced up at her and she laughed.

"What?"

"You have flour all over your cheek." He brushed at it and she laughed again. "Now you're just spreading it around with your flour-y hand."

He grinned and shook his head, turning to the sink and washing his hands as well as wetting a side towel and wiping his face off with it. "Better?"

Mel grinned back. "Not nearly as cute, but cleaner for sure."

She bit her lip. That had kind of slipped out. They were still kind of dancing around each other.

Mac's eyes flicked to hers for a second, then away again. "The stuff in the oven needs about twenty minutes," he said casually. "Want to go out on the deck and have a beer, watch the sunset?"

"Sounds good," Mel answered, as Mac turned and grabbed two beers out of the fridge with one hand, and his phone with the other.

When they sat down in the deck chairs, Mel was pleased to notice that Mac was finally moving with the fluid grace she was accustomed to, rather than like he was still hurting. She was sure he was an interesting palette of colors since she could still see some very faint bruising on his face, but nothing seemed to be slowing him down anymore. They were talking casually about whether they wanted to watch another movie or maybe go out and do something (Mac had confessed that he wasn't great at the whole vacation thing and since there wasn't anything to do around the house or to his bike he needed to keep busy or he'd go crazy). While they were talking, Mac checked his phone for about the fifth time that hour.

"Everything okay?" Mel asked, tilting her head.

He looked at her and smiled. "Yeah. Great. I just haven't heard from Jack all day."

"Is that bad?"

"He usually calls or texts me a couple of times, even if it's just to check on the security detail. But he was visiting his friend Sarah last night … And …"

"You worry at least as much about him as he does about you?"

Mac shrugged. "Better at keeping a lid on it usually, I guess." He sighed. "I'm sure he's fine. I'm just surprised he hasn't at least texted."

"Weeeellll," she hedged. He looked at her. "She and Jack were kind of a thing, right?"

"Kind of? Yeah … like he really believes she was "the one" and he screwed it up. But Jack's like that. He doesn't give himself enough credit. He thinks he screws up relationships, but …"

"Anyone who knows him or his friends knows that isn't true."

"Exactly." Mac paused. "I'm just hoping things work out for him; and I'm worried they won't."

Mel gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure they will. And if they don't … his friends will be here to help him pick up the pieces."

Mac just nodded, his expression thoughtful. People thought Mac was unemotional, and he could be maddeningly dispassionate about his work, about himself even, but the longer she knew him the more she could see he was more a deep-water kind of personality. The surface was shiny and you couldn't really see what was underneath, but once you broke the surface you were in the damned ocean. Changing the subject, Mac asked, "So, what are you guys doing for Beth's bachelorette party?"

Mel rolled her eyes and Mac snickered. "I guess she was kind of a party girl in college. Soooo … Party bus. Hollywood bar crawl and dancing. It's what she wanted."

Mac outright laughed at her expression. "I'm so sorry."

Mel managed a small laugh. "So am I. I tried to talk her out of it. What about you guys? What'd you put together for Boze?"

Mac shrugged. "Oh, just movies and food, and guys being stupid. Probably mostly here."

"Lucky bastard."

"Occasionally," Mac said cryptically. He chuckled and offered a second beer while he went in to check on the food.

Mel watched him go, then she made what felt like a suicidally risky decision.

When Mac turned away from putting the last roasting pan on top of the stove, Mel was on his elbow, looking extremely nervous. He looked almost startled.

All at once they said, "Sorry. You okay?"

Their eyes met and there was something like laughter there.

Then they both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, and stopped just as synchronistically, laughing again.

They both blushed. And then they spoke at the same time again. "Aw, screw it."


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N - This one's for the readers who felt cheated out of the kiss. I'm kind of an off camera kiss person generally, but I'm also all about giving you what you asked for. This is just a little bit of fun fluff. It's also a bridge to the next piece of action I'm thinking about. It's my last week of summer break so I want to go out with a bang. I've got some book signings coming up which I'm super excited about and I'm actually trying a migraine prescription, so things are looking up for the fall, I think. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this bit of marshmallow! ~ J_

Jack gave Mac a hard shove, sending him almost sprawling behind the barrier. "I saw him!" Mac groused, as he got up on his elbows to look around the obstruction and see if he could get a better eye on their opponents' strategy to advance on their position.

Jack leaned around his side of things and squeezed off another shot, crowing when it landed center mass. "Then start movin' like you see 'em!" he admonished afterward. "You're a mess. You get hit again and you're out."

Mac looked around again, thinking. "Jack, I need your backup ammo."

"Don't you have the loose stuff for that slingshot you made?"

"Yeah, but I need more. Oh, and one of those cartridges, too." Mac grinned at him and held out his hand. "We're about to get out of here."

Jack handed it over with a skeptical eyebrow raise. "You sure about this?"

"Just lay down some cover fire for me and get ready."

"Mac ..?" There was an almost warning tone in Jack's voice.

"Jack … Trust me. I've got this."

And with that Mac disappeared into the shadows. Between the noise, the flashing strobes, the splattering impacts, and his general fatigue at this point in the night, Jack felt like Mac was gone far too long. Suddenly Mac was beside him again. "Cover up, man," he grinned.

Jack just did as Mac said and when the loud pop went off a few seconds later the noise stopped, the lights came up, and the swearing started. "Goddamnit, Mac, that's cheating," Todd said standing up from behind a milk crate and peeling off his safety goggles. His eyes stood out brightly against the dark blue paint that currently covered the rest of his face.

Steve and Bozer's lab buddy Mike were leaning against one of the fake rocks in the paintball range laughing, just as covered in paint as Todd was, but not nearly as disgruntled. Bozer's brother Sam and his dad Mark climbed down from the lookout position they'd been occupying, also pretty paint splattered. "After all the times I covered for you with Dr. B., this is the thanks I get," Mark laughed ruefully.

"I'd apologize, sir, but I kinda owed you one," Mac laughed and indicated the bright orange blossom of paint covering most of his left side. He wasn't about to say so, but he could feel a huge bruise spreading there. At least he'd taken out his target's without leaving them a reminder they would surely feel when they hit the dancefloor at the reception tomorrow night. Paintball was a rough game, as the movements of the older players involved told anyone. Mac brushed his minor bumps off with a grin. "Hey, Boze! You still alive?"

Now certain the barrage was over, Boze came out from behind his cover, still without a single splatter of paint. He looked down at himself, grinning from ear to ear. "The rest of you are a mess! That means I win!"

Jack got slowly to his feet. Next time he got invited to a damned bachelor party he was going to pretend he hadn't gotten the invite. He was too old for … He stopped himself. He was not about to start going full Roger Murtaugh at Bozer's party. Instead he gave Boze a shark-like smile and leveled his paintball gun at him, squeezing off a bright red ball. Bozer gasped and then gave Jack a shocked and slightly horrified looked. Jack shrugged. "No, the fact that you are marrying a beautiful intelligent human who can put up with your crazy means you win. The fact that you have a point-blank paint stain means you buy the next round.

The good-natured razzing that had characterized the rest of the evening followed them out of the range as they went to turn in their gear. Mac helpfully suggested they take the party back to his house so everyone could de-paint and they could settle in for from real serious movie watching and associated drinking games, which he – as the best man - was refereeing, not participating in.

0-0-0

In not quite three decades of existence, Angus MacGyver had been in some high-stress situations, all of which had left him wrung out and exhausted. He thought, as he hid in the coat room just enjoying five minutes of silence that none of his previous experiences held a candle to making a big wedding appear to come off without a hitch up to Wilt Bozer's Hollywood post-production standards. However, he also thought that once he got to fall into bed after seeing Boze and Beth off to the airport in a few hours, that it would all be worth it. Now that things were in the DJs hands and everyone was busy drinking and dancing, he was starting to relax and enjoy himself a little too. He heard shoes kicked off behind him before he turned.

"Hey. Giving up on those heels?" he grinned.

Mel unapologetically sat down on the floor, tulle skirt be damned, and started massaging her feet. "I gave up before I put them on," she snickered. "But now everybody's had a couple of drinks, I'm officially going to 'lose them' in here. What about you? Where's your tie?"

Mac joined her on the floor. He shrugged. "I have no idea. It's felt, too tight and …" He paused. "I took it off after I had to give my stupid speech and I don't know where it went."

She leaned toward him and bumped her arm against his. "If it makes you feel any better it was a nice speech. I could hardly tell you were nervous," she offered kindly.

He flashed her a quick smile. "It was totally plagiarized," he admitted.

"You stole your best man speech?" she asked, incredulous.

"Not exactly. But I was totally at a loss. Jack helped me paraphrase the one from Sherlock. Threw in a couple ideas of our own. I'm awful at that stuff and …"

"Well, no one would ever know. It was lovely," she assured him.

He grinned again and got to his feet. "We should head back in there. Can't just have the best man and maid of honor disappearing in the middle of everything."

She smiled up at him. "Will you dance with me if I go back in there?"

He shook his head. "I really don't dance." He extended his hand to help her up.

"Not even one?" She took it.

He hauled her up with a little more force than he planned on and her feet were sore enough from her torturous shoes that she over balanced and wound up unintentionally pulled against his chest. He grinned at her again. "You can't trick me into dancing by throwing yourself into my arms you know. I'm a klutz with no rhythm. I like you and your feet too much."

Her smile became very sly. This was the first time they'd been alone since Jack had gotten back from Texas. Instead of stepping away, Mel's arms went around his neck and she stepped closer. "I could be convinced to forget about a dance."

He lowered his mouth over hers and felt himself still smiling. The pretty pink stain on her lips wasn't some fancy lipstick, it was strawberry chapstick like she always wore. That summed her up perfectly to Mac. Those little streaks of practicality even as she acknowledged a need to bend to certain conventions were part of why he liked her so much. He pulled away just a little and leaned to whisper in her ear. "Did you forget yet?"

"Nope. Still kinda want to dance with you, even if you break my toes." She almost giggled.

He kissed her again, this time nibbling her lip slightly. "How about now?"

"How about now, what?" she breathed.

Their eyes met.

0-0-0

Jack and Matty were sitting together at a table across the reception hall when the two came out of the coat room. They weren't red faced, or disheveled. They weren't even holding hands or walking particularly close to one another. Rather they walked purposefully over to the buffet table, got some food and went and sat back down in their places at the head table. Mel poured them both some champagne and they started chatting, occasionally including other members of the bridal party.

"Well, when did that happen?" Matty asked with a satisfied smile.

"When what?" Jack asked, feigning ignorance.

"MacGyver and Sullivan. When did they become an item?"

"Oh, Matty, I'm not sure they're …"

"Don't play a player, Dalton."

"I know it's nothing official, but I think they're maybe figuring it out this last week or so."

"Hmmm," she murmured. "Good."

"Did you put her on our team hoping ..?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Of course not. I put her on your team because I know she can handle the two of you. But if that association happens to increase the happiness and stability of one of my agents, mores the better." Matty gave a catlike smile.

"That why you offered Sarah a job at Phoneix?" Jack asked, his voice suddenly a little suspicious.

"No, I offered Sarah a job because she can be a real asset here in the capacity of Assistant Director of Operations, travel home to Texas as often as she likes, and have the support of close friends here in LA while she figures out her next steps." Matty's voice was almost overly cooly professional.

"You know she and her ex are still tryin' to work it out, Matty. That's one of the things she and I talked about, if she comes to work with us."

Matty put up her hands. "I know." The small half smile she was wearing told Jack she knew more than she was saying on that score, but he decided not to ask since he didn't want his hopes gotten up any more than they had been. Then Matty asked, "What do you think she's going to say to the offer?"

Jack shrugged, his eyes following Mel as she led his slightly reluctant partner out onto the dancefloor and led him into an easy to follow waltz that he was holding his own doing by the looks from here. "I hope she says yes," he acknowledged, a smile starting to tug one corner of his mouth as he watched Mac grin and spin Mel around with a lack of self-consciousness he never would have expected to see on a dance floor. "You never know what life is gonna bring you next."


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N - Hey guys. Sorry it's been a couple of days. I've been working my backside off getting ready for the school year to start. I've also got a miserable virus of the apocalyptic variety and I feel like hammered crap. As a result this is a fairly short chapter that's honestly mostly fluff right up until the last line. I've got a book I've got to get edited by the weekend so I may not get another chapter up here for a few days. I hope there aren't too many mistakes here. If there are, I blame being feverish and drunk on NyQuil and I'll fix them when my immune system gets off it's metaphorical ass and kicks this bug out of my body. In the mean time, enjoy. There's action and whumpage to come soon, I promise. ~ J_

"Jack," Mac put his hand on his friend's arm. "Jack, buddy." This time he shook him.

Jack groaned and rolled over on the couch, away from Mac, who was now smirking slightly.

"It's almost noon, Jack. And the coffee is getting … viscous. You gonna get up, or should I just dump it?"

"Mmmm." He cracked one eye open. Mac looked irritatingly well rested. In fact, he looked the sort of decent sleep, post-run, good breakfast, I've been up for hours sort of well rested that no self-respecting best man had any right to look the morning after the big event. Jack mumbled something to that effect, scrubbing his hands over his stubbly face. Then he grumbled, "Viscous?"

Mac chuckled. "I'm kidding. I brewed you a fresh pot."

Jack sat up slowly. "You drank a whole pot of coffee?"

"No. I shared a whole pot of coffee. Hours ago."

Jack's eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline. "Well, well, well. I was about to say you look much to fresh to have properly enjoyed the benefits of the offices of Best Manhood, but clearly I would have been mistaken."

Mac smacked him on the shoulder on his way past. "She came over for breakfast before work, Jackass."

Jack shook his aching head, but smiled as he got to his feet, following Mac to the kitchen. "Ever the gentleman."

"Or, you know, _the adult_ ," Mac said, throwing shade just as hard as he could, but with a could natured tilt to his head.

"I have got better than two decades on you and …"

"And eventually, that'll matter," Mac grinned. "You want some breakfast?"

Jack's expression answered clearly that he didn't _want_ a damned thing, but he said, "I should probably eat something."

Mac shook his head, trying not to laugh but failing as he got out a frying pan and the carton of eggs. "I'll make you eggs."

"Oh, Mac, I dunno, man …"

"Jack, the cysteine in eggs helps break down the acetaldehyde more quickly."

"The what?"

"Acetaldehyde is a byproduct of alcohol metabolism. It's why you feel like garbage. And cysteine is a protein found in egg yolk that helps you get rid of it. I've explained this before."

"I don't remember that. Hell, I don't know if I remember comin' home last night." He rested his head on one hand.

"How much champagne did you guys drink? Jesus. You look like you're gonna die on me."

"Matty had a bottle of raspberry Stoli and we just mixed …"

"Ugh. No. I don't want to know how you ruined perfectly good champagne. By getting way too wasted. With our boss. I hope she's still speaking to us on Monday."

"Hey now, Matty and I are on very good terms right now."

Mac smiled over his shoulder at Jack as he cracked a couple of eggs into the hot pan. "I can imagine. Have you heard from Sarah about what she's decided ..?"

Jack shook his head, but his train of pleasant thoughts was overcoming his hangover as he sipped his coffee. "Nah, but Matty's pretty sure she's on board."

Mac put a plate full of eggs and buttered toast in front of Jack and got himself another cup of coffee, joining him at the counter. Mac had talked with Matty after Jack came home and told him about the job offer. He'd been a little upset with Matty at the time. As far as Mac was concerned Sarah was a married woman who was trying to work things out with her husband and Jack was trying to respect that despite still being madly in love with her and Matty putting the two of them into the workplace together just seemed like a recipe for trouble. Matty assuaged his concerns saying she didn't want him to say anything to Jack, because Sarah didn't know yet, but a source of hers inside the Agency knew Sarah's husband was about to file for divorce. Matty felt she was just greasing the wheels for two old and dear friends to be happy. And she was padding her bench so her organization would be as successful as possible. If he didn't mind. She'd glared at him, but he could tell she understood his concern. He was glad he didn't have to bring that up to Jack now. Even hung over the man looked so happy at the prospect of Sarah and little Fred moving to town, it was like he was dreaming awake.

Finally, he said, "That's good. I like working with Sarah. She and Matty will be good for Ops, I think."

Jack grinned. "Yeah," he said wistfully. He wasn't paying any attention at all.

Mac shook his head and just finished his coffee. He checked his watch. "Hey, we should probably return the tuxes. You up for a drive or you want me to take care of it?" Mac looked at his watch again.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "What're you in such a hurry for? We've got until five."

Mac grinned at him a little sheepishly. "I was just thinking if we went now, we could stop by Phoenix for a minute. It's been two weeks and I wanted to check my in-box and stuff so Monday isn't a total surprise and everything."

"We could do that later, too," Jack said, a knowing smirk starting to spread.

"Yeah, of course. Sure. We could wait." Mac busied himself with a coffee refill he didn't really want.

Jack grinned now. "Or you could go return the tuxes now, and meet up with a certain mean bossy nurse we both know and maybe buy her some lunch."

Mac knew he was maybe blushing slightly, but found he really didn't mind. "She's not really mean and bossy Jack. She's just really passionate about her job."

"I am so gonna tell her you said so." Jack got out his phone.

"Wait. No. Don't tell her that." Jack just grinned. "Jack." Mac glared. And he almost meant it.

Jack tossed his phone on the counter and headed back over to the couch. "Your secret is safe with me, Loverboy. Us old folks are gonna have a nap while you go get your nerd flirt on."

"You just got up twenty minutes ago."

"And?"

"Nothing. I'll adult for both of us today."

Jack pulled the blanket back over himself and settled back in, grateful that the headache he'd had when he'd first gotten up had started to back off, along with the oily feeling in his stomach. Maybe Mac was right about that formaldehyde stuff.

By the time Mac had gathered the tuxes, Jack was snoring on the couch. He didn't even twitch when Mac closed the door.

He didn't stir when the door was opened about ten minutes later either.

 _Dun, dun, dun ..._


	26. Chapter 26

Mac hadn't planned to be gone so long. He was still pretty beat from the wedding, even though he'd been a hell of a lot more moderate than his partner. He'd never danced so much in his entire life. In fact, he'd never really danced much before at all. And even though he was in great shape he was vaguely sore all over. Apparently dancing with an extremely coordinated partner used muscles that running and fighting didn't. After he'd returned the tuxes and had lunch with Mel, he'd gotten caught up in a conversation with Matty (who he was pleased didn't yell at him for coming back to work before the time she designated) regarding the tracking chips he, Beth, and Riley had developed. She was interested in what he thought about the viability of implanting them in agents, eliminating the possibility of them being confiscated with clothes if they were captured. He thought it was certainly possible, albeit disgusting, and brought up the ethical implication of such a practice as the primary consideration.

By the time they finished talking Mel had finished her shift and asked him home to dinner. Dinner was just grilled cheese and canned tomato soup, but Mac confessed it was one of his favorite meals, reaching all the way back to his childhood. He wound up telling her a long, involved story about getting injured pretty badly in Afghanistan when he was traveling with Jack's crew and being just miserable, going back and forth between depressed and surly during his recovery. She smiled when he admitted, as though she didn't already know, he didn't do well with being stuck in bed, or fussed over. Jack remembered him talking about that favorite meal one time and scoured the base hoping like hell somebody had a can of soup and maybe some Cheese Whiz in a care package somewhere. No one did, but Jack would be damned if that would let it stop him from cheering his friend up and managed a Dalton-version from God only knew what out of about five different MREs. "It was pretty awful," Mac told her, laughing, but he'd eaten the whole thing. "He was just so proud of himself," Mac chuckled. "Funny thing is, after I choked that shit down, I really did feel better."

Once it was clearly established that Mel would come over the following evening so Mac could cook her favorite comfort food, which she seemed almost embarrassed to admit was Kraft Mac and Cheese and chicken fingers, and that Spot thought that Mac was a new piece of furniture he should permanently get to lay on, they'd gotten talking about any number of things and before either of them knew it the hour had gotten later than they intended. It was dark when Mac pulled into his parking area. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stir when the only light when he pulled in came from the security detail car that followed him to and from Phoenix and points in between. The light that normally came on automatically was dark. There was no sign of the two guards that Matty had posted semi-permanently at his home either.

Mac slowly got out of his jeep. He motioned to the agent in the car next to him. Rob was one of Jack's handpicked tactical guys so Mac was glad he was on duty at the moment. Anderson slid out of the car, drawing his weapon, sensing the danger as clearly as Mac did. He spoke softly into his radio, then nodded to Mac. They approached the house carefully scanning the area for threats. They found the two guards slumped against the side of the house. Mac dropped down to the ground. Andy was groaning softly. Rachel was thoroughly unconscious but had a slow steady pulse. Mac could feel his own heart beat picking up. He forced himself to move with deliberation. Rob updated Phoenix over the radio and they moved inside through the intact door. Mac paused, using the tiny flashlight on his keychain to examine it. Whoever had entered the house had either had a key or was an exceptional lock pick.

The silence of the dark house was immediately unnerving.

"Jack!" he called, waiting, almost hopeful.

Nothing.

During the few times when Mac had lived alone, like when Bozer had gone away for a few weeks for a film class, he left the TV on almost constantly. When Boze or Jack were around the house was never quiet. They were both big loud guys. And Boze slept with a white noise machine and Jack snored, so even at night there was always some noise. Now, Mac could hear his neighbor's TV, and his neighbor wasn't all that close or loud. He tried the lights. He was unsurprised when the house stayed dark. The breaker box was right near the entrance, so he tried that next. The breaker hadn't just been thrown, the main line had been cut. He got an emergency light from his hiking pack in the closet near the door and when it flared to life he closed his eyes for a second, not wanting to acknowledge what he was seeing.

There'd been a fight here, that much was certain. The glass coffee table was broken, although the lack of blood there was almost encouraging. Couch cushions, magazines were scattered. He picked up the phone just to see if that, too, had been tampered with, and of course it was silent. Mac heard the tactical team Rob had called for arrive, saw their flashlight beams scattering around outside through the windows, heard their voices as they entered the house. Someone said his name, but he didn't respond. His eyes just locked on one of the cushions on the floor. There was blood there. Not much. Just a few drops really. Mac took a step toward it and he saw the likely cause. A syringe lay discarded on the floor nearby, the needle bent, almost broken off. He swallowed past what felt like a brick in his throat. His heart was hammering now. He took several slow careful breaths, slowing it through a sheer act of will and years of practice. Jack's alive, he told himself. If someone drugged him, they didn't just kill him. Alive, no matter why, is a chance to get him back. Someone said his name again and he opened his mouth, but for a second no sound came out. _Get it together, Hollywood. I need you focused_ , he heard a long-ago version of Jack whisper in his ear. He nodded, and finally answered, "Yeah," as he turned.

A member of Tactical Mac didn't recognize was holding up a crisp white envelope in his gloved hand. _Angus Henry MacGyver_ was written on it in a now-familiar scrawl. He crossed the room and took it out of the agent's hands. The guy looked like he was about to remind him about preserving evidence when Mac took it barehanded, but one look at the blond's face and the man's mouth snapped closed. Mac carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the paper inside.

 _My Dear Boy,_

 _"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself. The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."_

 _We've discussed how you could change the world by changing yourself haven't we, MacGyver. And I have the patience of the Almighty and now that I have the missing piece to my puzzle, I have all the time in the world. It's like being born and having a whole life before us, Angus. I have confidence you'll know where to start looking. I'll contact you when you are where I want you and we will discuss next steps._

 _Come alone._

 _If you don't, I'll know._

 _And he'll die._

 _M_

Mac stood just looking at the note for a moment, thinking. He went through the subtle clues in the text, mentally testing the likelihood that his conclusions were correct. All at once he got out his cell and dialed Matty. Since Tactical had already contacted her, she answered before the end of the first ring.

"Talk to me."

"Jack's gone. It's Murdoc."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

There was a beat of silence that Mac didn't like.

"Matty, what is it?"

He heard her almost sigh. "Ashton Cooke is gone, too."

"What the hell happened?" Mac snapped.

"He was being moved between wings for evaluation after exhibiting some very strange behavior and the cameras went dark. The staff were found drugged and unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. We just discovered it." She left the rest unsaid. It didn't really need saying. "What about your situation?"

"I need you to reach Bozer and Beth's security detail. I know I won't be able to get ahold of Beth directly at the resort and I need her. I'm going to need Riley, too. I'm going to need commercial transportation to Sheremetyevo Airport on the next available flight."

"Mac, slow down. I need more information if I'm going to assemble a team."

Mac shook his head, as though she could see him. "No team. Murdoc is very clear here. And very clear that he's watching. I don't know how but after everything else, I believe it."

"Mac?" she prompted.

"There's a note." He read it to her.

More silence. Then, "Riley and I will be there as soon as possible. I'm pulling in Todd and Steve as well and if they're available they'll be with us. We'll figure out what to do next as a team."

"Matty, I need to …"

"Mac, I told you, I need you to slow down. We don't even know where he is."

"I know where he is. And I need that flight into Moscow."

"Mac," she tried again.

Mac was pacing around the dark house, avoiding the Tac team more from instinct than because he was paying any attention to what he was doing. "We know there's a Russian connection already and those quotes are Tolstoy."

"So? Russia isn't exactly a small town, MacGyver, It's the better part of two continents."

"The birth references. He's taken Jack to Tula. It's where Tolstoy was born. I need Ri and Beth to help me get an exact location though."

"How are they going to do that?"

"Jack started wearing the tracking chips, too."

This time Matty didn't even conceal her sigh. It was clearly relief.

"I'll set things in motion. I'm already on the road. See you soon."

Mac put his phone back in his pocket and raked his hands through his hair. He realized Murdoc could have taken Jack as much as twelve hours ago at this point. They could be in Tula already. Murdoc could be …

He resumed pacing.

She couldn't get there soon enough.


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N Kinda intense short torture at the end of this one. You've been warned._

It was cold in Moscow, but not nearly as intolerable as it had been the last time Mac had traveled there. Still, when he got out of the cab in the city center this afternoon, the blast of wind that hit him in the face after leaving the mild LA winter behind made him momentarily glad he was headed for a place known to be milder this time of year than the neighboring capital. He took his hand out of his pocket to check his phone again. Still nothing. Damn.

He'd been keeping his movements deliberate and obvious since they lost the tracking signal on the three separate chips Jack had on him. He'd traveled under his own name, booked a room at the best-known hotel in the city, took a cab to all the usual tourist stops. Murdoc had promised to contact him, but he didn't know if Murdoc would trust him to not trace a call or text, or if he'd trust his own encryption that far, so Mac wanted to be physically easy to locate for contact. He wasn't sure the plan to rescue Jack would work. And until he had confirmation of Jack's location, he'd forbidden any direct involvement of any of Phoenix's people. Matty had pulled rank, saying he was her agent and they would run this recovery her way or not at all. Mac had glanced at Sarah on the screen in the War Room, her expression totally professional, but her eyes as pained as he felt, and then looked at Matty, his face completely calm. "Then I quit. And I'm going after him myself."

She capitulated then, but made it clear she wasn't happy. Mac had never cared less what a superior thought about his decisions. Well, that wasn't true. There had been one time. And this was going to end the same way. With Jack going home. He was determined. Despite the fact that the signal from the tracking chips had been cut off, it had last long enough for Phoenix to pin down his location as moving out of Moscow toward Tula, as Mac had suspected. But that was all they had. He glanced at his phone again. He'd been hoping Murdoc would contact him as soon as he landed, but he'd already been here for almost two days and so far, he'd been met with an almost indifferent silence. No, that wasn't right. This silence was deliberate. Taunting. Mac was meant to feel it draw out. Mac's imagination had been tormenting him since he'd pulled into his dark parking area and Murdoc knew it. Mac was sure he did. He knew the killer had seen his files. All of them. And this was about manipulating him into … Mac wasn't exactly sure what Murdoc's agenda was, what the endgame was, not precisely, but he knew it meant nothing good, for him or for Jack.

Every time he looked at his watch, checked his phone, accidentally caught sight of the clock in the hotel lobby, he was reminded of how long Jack had been with Murdoc. He hadn't been able to force himself to eat since he landed. He needed to go into Tula himself. He had an idea where he might find Murdoc. And he needed a way to let Phoenix know without contacting them directly in case Murdoc was watching for that. Fortunately, he was not without resources.

Mac approached the newspaper stand, glancing around. He forced himself to put his phone away. He knew he hadn't gotten a message in the minute or so since he'd checked it, but the urge to look again was strong. The young woman running the stand squinted at him, almost like she recognized him. He almost smiled. With the heavy coat and hat, not to mention the fact that she wasn't an intelligence professional, he wasn't surprised that he didn't register to her right away. He opened the paper and leaned against the stand like he was perusing the headlines. He knew his Russian wasn't perfect, but he still gave it his best efforts when he said, "I don't know why I pick up the paper anymore. All my favorite Russian reporters wind up moving to America. I miss Sokolov's political coverage."

He heard her little gasp of recognition. "Mac!"

"Hey, Tally. How are you?" he said, not turning away from the paper.

"How is Kolya?" she answered.

"He's well. He sends his love. Lexi, too. If you'd like to visit sometime, I'm sure I could arrange it," he offered. Better to say so now, before he asked a favor.

"Of course! Now what are you doing here hiding behind a paper speaking in bad Russian?" she asked, deciding not to switch into English even though when she'd seen Mac in the past he'd been a friend who had helped her and Kolya practice their English. Something told her he wanted to blend in.

Mac folded the paper and tucked it under one arm. He reached into his pocket for some more money and passed it across the counter, pointing at a book of matches and a pack of cigarettes. "There's a note in there with a phone number. I just need you to call the number and say what's on the paper. Can you do that, Natalia?"

"I did things like that for Nikolai a few times. _Da_. I can do it."

"Wait an hour but not more than that. Okay?"

She nodded.

Mac took the lighter and cigarettes and slipped them into his pocket and turned to leave, trusting she would do as she said. " _Spasibo_ , Tally."

She watched him walk into the rental car business down the street, wondering if he had hurt himself. He looked so stiff. It was cold, but not terribly. She'd been standing at the open window of the stand all day and didn't feel as stiff as he looked. Then she watched him walk out alone a few minutes later and climb into the slightly dented brown _Lada Granta_ out front. She realized it wasn't that he was moving like he was hurt, he was just lacking in the ease she had seen when he'd visited Kolya the few times she'd met him before. The first time she'd seen him, she'd assumed he was an athlete. Then she wondered where his big dark friend was. The scruffy one who was always being funny. She'd never seen Mac without him. She often wondered if the man was Mac's bodyguard, if maybe Mac was secretly some sort of wealthy American ad the big man was traveling as his protector. That would explain the handsome blond's tension certainly. Whatever was bothering him, maybe it would be solved by her phone call for him with this strange message. It was just numbers. She assumed it was map coordinates. But she'd helped out Kolya with enough important news stories to not want to be too nosy.

0-0-0

Mac drove out of the city cursing the rental car and its lack of functioning heat. He had no idea what state he'd find Jack in and he didn't really want to be responsible for inducing hypothermia if he could help it. Of course, he growled to himself, if he drove the two-plus hours in the cold with now heat himself, he'd have some thermal problems of his own. He pulled over on a dirt shoulder, not too far outside the city and popped the hood to see what he could do. A half hour and some mild frostbite later and the car was churning out copious billows of beautifully heated air when Mac turned it back on. He sat with the car idling as he warmed his stinging fingers for a few minutes. As the pain began to ebb, he realized he had not checked his phone recently so he pulled it out of his pocket, in preparation for getting back on the road.

He immediately swallowed hard when he saw he'd received a video message from a blocked number. Not wanting to, but knowing he had to do it anyway, he hit the triangle to make it play. Murdoc's pale face bloomed to life.

"Well, well. You solved my little clues. I'm never sure about a literary reference with you. You are so very STEM oriented, my boy. So, I suppose a 'well done' is in order. You've read Tolstoy. Not one of the most accessible writers. I find myself impressed. And I'm gratified to have learned something new. Our Jack has been most unhelpful in that regard, dear boy. And learning new things about you is the whole reason tall, dark, and dim is still alive. If I can't motivate him, tch, tch, tch … I don't know how much longer I'll bother with him …"

The camera, or phone, whatever it was Murdoc was using to film was flipped around a mostly dark room. Mac cringed when the light on the camera hit Jack dressed in a blood stained grey uniform of some sort, like something warn by an inmate perhaps, lying on the floor hands bound in front of him, bare feet tied together. His face was bruised and bloody, too. Ashton said something to him, but the hiss of the poor-quality microphone made it impossible for Mac to hear it. Jack appeared to try to roll onto his side, but didn't seem able to get there. Ashton kicked him hard a couple of times and Jack cried out and the went into a coughing fit. Mac could hear that, all too clearly. Murdoc spoke this time and told Jack to get on his feet. Again, Mac's partner made an obvious effort and this time when he failed, Murdoc strode over to the prone figure. "Tell Angus how you feel about answering my questions about him and following my directives, Agent Dalton."

"He can go to hell, Mac," Jack rasped.

Murdoc turned the camera toward his own face again. "This is how I feel about it."

Once again, the camera was on Jack and Ashton. There was a rusty hook on a chain hanging from the ceiling that Mac hadn't noticed until Ashton grabbed ahold of it. Ashton gave the camera a predatory smile that let Mac know anything he'd said to Phoenix was a lie. Mac wanted to close his eyes against what he knew was about to happen, but found himself unable to do it. Murdoc's doppelganger, his twin in looks and in capacity for inflicting suffering skewered Jack through the shoulder with that hook, and even as Jack screamed and thrashed, used a nearby pulley to haul the agent off the floor and onto his feet.

Then the camera was tightened on Murdoc's face again. "If that doesn't get him to answer my questions, I think you'd better hurry and answer yourself, MacGyver. Ashton is getting impatient."

The video ended.

Mac slammed his hands into the steering wheel, tears burning under his closed eyelids, even as he was deciding what to do next.


	28. Chapter 28

Mac hadn't been sitting there a full five minutes when he got himself back under control enough to move on. As he was about to put the car in gear, his phone chimed with a text.

 _So much as a sniff you're not alone or you've contacted your people and I will paint the wall with whatever Jack has for brains._

A text he could reply to.

 _I'm alone. Tell me where to go._

He waited.

 _I think watching you try to find us will be much more diverting, Angus. And I am, you know._

 _Watching._

Mac looked around. There was no obvious means for the statement to be true, but Mac was inexplicably certain that it was. His first thought was a satellite, but it was cloudy, beginning to spit snow. Drone maybe? He glanced around again. Or, you know, maybe Murdoc was actually Voldemort. The thought, which came to him in Jack's goofiest voice, almost made him smile. Then he thought of what he'd seen in that video and had a powerful urge to throw up, despite his empty stomach. He swallowed and texted back.

 _Good. You'll know that I'm on the right track. And when I get there you will let Jack go. Deal?_

He waited for almost five minutes.

 _Maybe._

It would have to do.

 _I'm on my way._

By the time Mac got into Tula, some four hours later, after what should have only been a two-hour drive, the spits of snow outside Moscow had become a howling snowstorm, and although the temperature had come up almost ten degrees, all that did was make the roads slushier and more treacherous. It was dark, and snow was blowing everywhere. Mac was determined that wouldn't stop him from finding Jack tonight. He pulled into the parking area of the Tula Kremlin, a well-known historic site, some of which housed museums and churches, and some of which had fallen into disuse. Given its connection to the czars and the Soviet government, Mac had an idea that maybe Murdoc would have taken Jack there. The lights were all off and it didn't look like there was much in the way of guards around. Mac got his duffle bag off the passenger seat and moved to get out of the car when his phone chimed. It was another video. Mac closed his eyes for a minute, pursing his lips. Then he opened his eyes and played it.

At first there was no sound. Jack was bound to a chair this time, but the hook was still through his shoulder. Mac could see him taking ragged pained breaths. The younger brother, whom Mac was beginning to think of as Murdoc the Lesser, approached Jack with a syringe in hand. Jack's eyes widened slightly and the pace of his breathing picked up, but he gave no other obvious sign that he'd been in this situation before and that just the memory of it was enough to occasionally give him panic attacks, say nothing about the reality. When he sunk the needle into the meat of Jack's upper arm, Jack just closed his eyes for a minute, then he said something that actually made the man take a stumbling step away. Mac felt a moment of triumph for his partner. He knew what that was like. To just get one over on the bastard tormenting you. Even for a second. It could keep you going for days, when you thought even the promise of rescue was lost. Knowing you could still get to them, made it harder to get to you. But then Mac saw Jack's pupils dilate and his breathing increase like he was running up hill. He began to look absolutely furious. Well, Mac thought, at least he knew what they were probably drugging Jack with. They had discussed that before he left home. The lesser Murdoc pulled a black bag over his partner's head and went to work on his with his fists. Mac looked at the time. This had been going on for nine minutes. Suddenly the sound started. On a speaker, somewhere in the room with Jack was Mac's own voice, just random phrases really, but every time his voice poured out of the speakers, Jack's head would snap around like he was looking for him. At the seventeen-minute mark, Mac absently reached up to wipe moisture that was half sorrow half fury off his face, when finally, Murdoc himself flipped the camera around and waved like some cheesy home movie from the 1960s.

"Good evening, Angus. I do hope you've enjoyed the show." Murdoc moved closer to where Jack was sagging in the chair, chest heaving after the most recent assault. Murdoc waved his brother off and Mac heard his own voice from the speaker say almost plaintively, "Jack?"

Murdoc leaned down near Jack's ear. "Poor Jack. Why don't you tell our Angus what you want?"

Mac knew Murdoc was just doing this to twist him up, was just trying to manipulate him, make him emotionally vulnerable, but that didn't make it any easier to hear when Jack whispered only, "Mac, no."

Murdoc grinned into the camera again. "We're waiting. And you, my dear boy, are getting warmer, but you're not quite there yet."

The video ended. Mac swallowed hard a couple of times, trying to keep it from happening, but he wound up scrambling out of the car into the howling wind and throwing up into the snow anyway. He stood leaning against the car for a minute feeling dizzy, the snow and wind stinging his face. He took a deep breath, grabbed his bag off the seat, closed the car, and snuck into the Tula Kremlin through the Tower of Pyatnitsky Gate which had, surprisingly, no real security (other than a few easily picked locks). Apparently, Tula's residents wouldn't think of breaking into their city's former claim to fame.

By about three a.m. Mac was frozen, frustrated, afraid he'd misjudged Murdoc. There's was no one here, except for a few odd bats in the cathedral and some stray cats between the buildings. Mac made his way stiffly out to his car, and found it covered with drifting snow. There was no leaving the parking lot now, not until something had been done about the snow or he could at least see a bit to do something himself. He ran the car for a little while until his teeth stopped chattering. Then he wrapped himself in a Mylar blanket from his pack and set his watch to wake him in an hour. Feeling miserably hopeless and very alone, Mac fell asleep, starting to shiver again.

He was awakened in full sunlight by an armed police officer tapping on his window with his heavy flashlight. Fortunately, thinking on his feet was basically the heart and soul of Mac's job. He managed to convince the surly cop that he was in town looking up some long-lost family and he'd gotten caught in the storm. The big open parking lot had seemed like a safe place to shelter until it passed. The pack of cigarettes he'd bought from Tally bought the young man's agreeability as surely as he'd hoped they might if ran into any law enforcement when he purchased them. The snow was mostly cleaned up now at about seven a.m. local time and the kid directed Mac to a nearby hotel where he could stay while he looked for his 'family'. Mac thanked him and drove off, with no intention of going there, but relatively pleased with some indication from the young man of where there might be other less inhabited parts of town he might try looking for Jack.

Taunting texts kept coming his way all day, but thankfully no more videos. Mac thought he'd looked in every abandoned factory and old building in Tula. By noon, he was nearly dead on his feet. When he bumped into the local postman without even seeing him, he finally remembered that he hadn't eaten since he left LA … Three days ago, now. No, he asserted, argumentatively to himself. He'd eaten on the plane. The flight attendant kept flirting with him and he ate the inflight meal to make her go away. That's not really better, kid, he heard Jack say. He could picture they eyebrow raise that went with it, too.

Huffing a sigh as though Jack was there to hear it, he pulled a protein bar out of his pack and at it, right there on the sidewalk, leaning against an old stone building and looking off into the grey distance. The wrapper said chocolate coconut almond, but Mac thought it tasted like cardboard. He bought a coffee in a little shop from a plump old woman who looked at him with grandmotherly disapproval when he didn't accept her suggestion to purchase some of their famous gingerbread. She told him in heavily accented, but perfectly correct English, that American boys were too thin. He asked her, in Russian, how she knew he was American, and she said no Russian boy ever said no to her gingerbread. After eating his cardboard flavored protein and having some sugary coffee, he actually felt half-way human again.

When he stepped back out onto the sidewalk his phone chimed. He looked at it with an almost superstitious dread rising in his chest, but it was just a text.

 _You're getting warmer, MacGyver._

He leaned against the building again, feeling about as tired as he'd ever been. Suddenly his eyes settled on a church down the street. It was large, and old, like a lot of the buildings in this part of town. And also like a lot of the buildings in this part of town it was sort of crumbling and disused. That was one he hadn't checked yet. He walked several blocks to his rental car and drove it to right in front of the church. His read from a distance had been correct. There wasn't much in this neighborhood other than maybe a few squatters and the church hadn't been used for probably fifty years. He hesitated, then he sent a quick text. As he climbed out of the car, his text chime went off. It was Murdoc.

 _You are hot, hot, hot. Congratulations, Padawan. And a promise is a promise. I suppose I should let Jack …_

Mac stared at his phone.

 _Off the hook._

The text was followed by a howl of pain that penetrated even the old stone walls of the church.

Mac broke into a run.


	29. Chapter 29

The doors were locked, but Mac was not particularly interested in accepting physical limits at the moment. A solid kick that he was certain would have made Jack proud splintered the wood and the door gave way to a hard shove after that. He stood just inside, taking a small light out of his pocket and sending it around the room. "I'm here, Murdoc!" he called out. "Now what?"

He was met with silence. He could hear some far away afternoon sounds from a few streets over where there was enough population to warrant it, but that was all. Then, almost silently, the assassin, stepped out of the shadows near the altar.

"Hello, Angus," Murdoc said softly.

Mac glared in return. "I want to see Jack. You agreed."

Murdoc smiled. "I said _maybe_."

"You've done enough damage. Let him go."

"Oh, Angus. I probably should have mentioned. I don't think he's in any condition to leave here on his own. And since the agreement was for you to stay …"

"No, the agreement was I'd show up. I'm here. Let Jack go. Now."

"Always in such a rush." He glanced at his brother. "It is such a problem with youth these days. No tolerance for taking one's time. No ability to savor the moment …"

"I know, I know. Millennials are ruining everything. Applebee's, department stores, politics, psychopathic killers' ability to brainwash them into joining their organizations, all that sort of thing." Mac took a step toward him. "I've got no interest in listening to you babble until the drone strike I called in makes a crater of your little torture chamber. Jack. Now."

Murdoc took a half step back. "Excuse me."

Mac advanced toward him, feeling cold, and almost welcoming it. "Drone strike. It's on its way. Painted the building with a laser before I stepped in. Sent a confirmation text, too. So, if you've got something you want me to hear, I suggest you talk fast. You've got," he looked at his watch, "maybe five minutes."

Instead of answering, Murdoc took out a cell phone and made a call. All Mac hear was, "In bound? Are you sure? Fine."

Mac looked warily around the crumbling church. He could hear muffled shouting and the sounds of struggle even before a side door opened and Ashton dragged a hooded, bound, and bloody Jack in front of the altar and dropped him at Murdoc's feet. Mac started to edge toward the front of the church where his friend had been so unceremoniously dumped. Murdoc barked, "Get the car," at his brother and drew a gun leveling it at Mac. Ashton bolted out the way he had come, barely throwing a glance Mac's way. Murdoc spoke again, his voice almost as icily calm as Mac felt. "You are just a fly in the ointment MacGyver. Here I thought we were going to have a pleasant little chat, but instead you've made things overly complicated again refusing to play by the rules." He'd begun backing toward the door, his weapon still aimed at Mac's chest, as though the young man gave half a damn about the killer at the moment. "I suppose I could just shoot you both, but I confess I'd rather like to see if you make it out of the trap you've essentially sprung on yourself. And if you can manage to get your Jack out with you."

Murdoc sprang out the door and Mac's slow progress toward Jack became a run again. He dropped down on his knees and pulled the hood off Jack's head. Jack's reaction was immediate and violent. The man's normally soft brown eyes went wide with a strange combination of fear and fury, and even bound he began thrashing helplessly, trying to get as far away from Mac as he could as quickly as he could.

This was exactly the sort of scenario Mac had played in his head a thousand times since he opened that first video. His voice was at once sharp to get his partner's attention through the haze of drugs and pain, and pleading, because he simply couldn't help it. "Jack it's me!"

Jack was backed up against the steps of the altar, unable to move further, and clearly exhausted. He gave a weak shake of his head. "No. No it isn't. You're just another trick." He didn't seem like he had much fight left in him.

Mac moved toward him again. Jack shook his head vigorously and tried to scramble away. "No!"

"Damnit, Jack! It's really Mac!"

Another obstinate head shake and Jack managed to renew his struggles, increasing the bleeding from his shoulder visibly.

Mac knew they didn't have much time left to get out of here and he needed Jack to be still long enough to cut his bonds.

"The Cowboys suck, Jack."

Jack paused, and Mac saw some lucidity pass over the clouded brown eyes. "What?"

"The Cowboys suck. They're the most overrated team in football. _Highway to Hell_ is the worst song in the history of music. Except maybe when you sing _Don't Stop Believing_ at karaoke. And I swear if you don't get your shit together and help me get you out of here, when I get back to LA I'm going to decide I have a thing for older women and go knock on Sarah Adler's door."

He said it all in one breath, and at the angry flash in Jack's eyes when he finished, Mac could see he'd finally gotten through. Then Jack's eyes really focused on his face.

"Mac?" Jack was half asking, half sighing with relief, still about out of his mind.

"Yeah, Big Guy. It's me." Taking advantage of the momentary lull in Jack being torn between the urge to panic and the urge to fight, Mac asked, "They doped you up pretty good, huh?"

"They shot me so full of that pink garbage I'm not sure I've got anything else left."

Mac gave him a small teasing smile. "Ah, c'mon Jack, you're always full of something else. Besides, I can help with that." Mac dug around in the bag he had slung over his shoulder. He took out a smallish plastic cylinder and flipped the cap at the top and the bottom. He squinted apologetically at Jack. "This is gonna suck. Sorry. Don't hit me." He jammed the device against Jack's thigh.

Not surprisingly Jack swore pretty loudly, but to his credit he didn't move. Mac tossed the cylinder away after a few seconds, eyeing his partner. "You okay?"

Jack frowned, not entirely sure at first that he didn't want to hit his partner when he was untied, at least a little, then he said, "Yeah, my head feels clearer already. What did you do?"

"Gave you the same stuff Steve used on me. But in something similar to an Epi-pen. Hard to break, kind of idiot proof, and you don't have to look at the needle."

"All of that's damned smart," Jack said, looking much steadier than he had a few moments before.

"Steve made it work, but it was Mel's idea," Mac said as he got up too, listening for even the slightest sound outside the door in front of them.

"I really kinda like that woman," Jack said, sounding almost entirely like himself.

"Yeah, me too. I owe her a dinner anyway. You can help me make it." Mac glanced at him with another small smile. It always seemed to help to make plans for 'when they got out of this mess this time'. "It's a small dose," he said, as he cut the ropes tying Jack's hands and feet and helping him up and slinging one of Jack's arm over his shoulders. "But it should help keep you level long enough to get out of here."

Mac watch buzzed the one-minute warning. "C'mon Jack, we gotta run, man."

They did their best. They were not very far from the building when Mac heard the whine of the drone overhead. Everything slowed down until it seemed like time was made of some invisible impossibly thick gel they were moving through. Mac hated doing it, knew it was going to hurt his friend, but he gave Jack a hard shove, sending him sprawling onto the broken down old sidewalk behind a junk car far too close to the target area. Mac threw himself on top of Jack, but not soon enough to miss the perfection of the blast. It looked almost like the old building had just collapsed in on itself, but for the force of some of the debris flying outward from the bottom. Less than a half a minute later Mac was coughing stone dust out of his nose and mouth and picking himself up off the temporarily stunned Jack. "Sssss." His breath hissed through his teeth when he realized he must've been hit in the side with some of that flying debris and his coat had been open since he'd been prepared to show Murdoc he was unarmed and the leather hadn't been there to offer any protection. It wasn't really bleeding. Well, okay it was, but not badly. Alright, it wasn't gushing, he thought. He zipped his coat. He didn't need Jack worrying about him right now.

Without thinking, he turned toward his partner and shook him by the shoulder. The wetness on his fingers told him, even before Jack's hoarse cry of pained almost-rage that he'd grabbed Jack's injured shoulder. Mac immediately said, "Sorry!" But events were already in motion. Despite the fact that he was injured, the drugs still in his system, the adrenaline of all that happened to him, and years of training and action had Jack sitting and throwing a wild punch before his eyes were all the way open. Once they were open, Jack's eyes blazed with an unnatural fury Mac recognized from having felt it and he only just ducked the swing leveled at his head. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry," he repeated.

Jack quickly got his bearings. He frowned, wanting to apologize for taking a swing at Mac, but somehow not quite being able to bring himself to do it. All he could think to say was something practical. "How we gettin' outta here?"

"We were going to just drive right into Moscow and Matty was going to have a Phoenix jet waiting. But since the car just got blown up, too …" He took out his phone and texted one handed, even as he got Jack a Mylar blanket out of his bag. He'd have to get him indoors and get him a jacket sooner rather than later. After he saw Phoenix's reply to his message, he looked around. "We need to get you inside while I figure us out some transportation."

Jack's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "I guess."

Mac tipped his chin at a dilapidated house about half a block away. "You think you can walk that far?"

"Of course, I can," Jack snapped, and he started climbing to his feet, brushing Mac out of the way even as he tried to help.

Not to be deterred, Mac tried to take his other arm. "Jack, let me …"

Even though Jack wobbled on his feet, though whether that was from the drugs or from his injured and probably infected shoulder, Mac couldn't say, he shoved Mac away. "I don't need your help! I can take care of myself. You look out for you." Jack glared at him, feeling the same glowing coal of anger he'd been feeling since his captors had first drugged him.

Mac's eyes went wide and he stepped back. "Sorry … I … Sorry. Let's go."

Jack shook his head. Every time he looked at Mac, instead of the instant protective affection he was used to feeling, he felt … unsettled. He knew it was the drugs, knew they'd been using all sorts of creative psychological and physical tortures on him together, but that didn't change the feeling that there was a small panicking animal trapped inside his ribs at the moment. Mac looked so hurt, and Jack knew that somehow, he was the cause of that, and it wasn't simple worry, but he just didn't have it in him to do anything about that at the moment. Still, it was Mac. So, he tried. "No, Mac … I'm just … well, you know how this shit feels in your system."

Mac nodded. Then he turned away quickly and started leading the way to the abandoned house. When Jack stumbled on the stairs, Mac reached out to help him. Jack clenched his jaw in pain that was more general than caused by the stumble, but Mac said he was sorry anyway. Jack gave him a curious look. But he found himself mumbling in frustration with his racing thoughts anyway. He was feeling like he should have been more sympathetic to Mac when he'd been drugged with this junk, and then that made him feel even grouchier.

When Mac got Jack inside, he insisted on having a look at Jack's wounded shoulder, an ordeal that resulted in Jack taking another involuntary swing at him. This time Jack did manage to say his was sorry, but he didn't manage to sound it. Mac got another cylinder of the medication Steve sent along out of his bag, hoping that another dose to counter what Murdoc had been drugging him with would help Jack get back to at least semi-rational, which, Mac thought wryly, was about as rational as Jack ever got. Instead of helping the situation, Jack interpreted it as some sort of threat and went from panicked, to argumentative, back to panicked, to just plain stubborn, to finally sort of whiny and oppositional. Mac had the fleeting thought that Steve and Mel should both be given some sort of medals of valor for putting up with shit like this every day and that he would never, repeat never, call Melody bossy and mean again, even to tease her. Finally, he got Jack calmed down, convinced that he really was the honest to goodness got-kicked-out-of-scouts-honor Angus Henry MacGyver, also known as Hollywood once upon a time, and that he was really just trying to help and Jack let Mac give him the shot. Although he did so grudgingly, and Mac apologized at least ten times in the less than two minutes the whole thing took. After that he was able to actually finish cleaning and bandaging Jack's shoulder until someone more qualified could see to it. Mac eyed his bandaging job with concern. He was competent at advanced first aid, but since becoming friends with several medical professionals he'd spent more time around their work when he wasn't the subject of it, and had subconsciously started holding himself to a higher standard. And if he was honest with himself, he knew he was stalling. He felt guilty for needing to leave Jack alone to get them a car. He decided it would do. He'd done what he could, and between what he was now certain was an infection in the wound and the damage from the hook, Jack was probably looking at surgery anyway.

Mac made sure Jack was warm enough, had some water and a protein bar, and that he promised to stay put. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Mac said, then something almost like pain passed over his face again.

Jack gave him _the_ look, but Mac didn't give him any time to say anything. He just opened the door and slipped out.

Mac was gone less than an hour, but had managed to get Jack a coat and get them a car that was frankly ready for the junkyard, but which he thought could limp its way to the small airport in Tula. Matty had gotten them a flight on a crappy little private plane to the closest airport that could accommodate the Phoenix jet, which was in St. Petersburg. Since he'd sent Matty the videos he'd received she assured Mac she'd kept the crew to essential flight personnel and their team doc. She hoped to just bring them home but Steve would make the call when they arrived about whether they should transport Jack home or if she should find them a hospital.

When Mac had relayed the plan to Jack in the car on the way to their airport, it had taken a supreme act of will (and that was saying something; Mac knew he was a man of will, just as stubborn as they came, and a little proud of it most of the time) not to get irritated when his partner immediately said he was going back to LA tonight come hell or high water. Things had gotten a little heated. Finally, knowing that he didn't have it in him to argue Jack into another shot, nor did he have any mental gas left in the tank to argue a hypothetical, (not to mention that part of him just wanted to give in to whatever Jack wanted, because in his mind, he was responsible for the state his partner was in) Mac just said, "If it's left up to me Jack, I'll take you home tonight and well lay on the couches and watch _Die Hard_ , okay?"

When they got on the small plane for the short hop to St. Petersburg, Mac first made sure Jack was reasonably comfortable. Then, instead of his default of distracting himself with a book, or music, or doing something on his phone, Mac just wedged himself up against the fuselage, rested his head against the shade he pulled over the window and closed his eyes.

Jack thought maybe Mac had fallen asleep, and somehow, in spite of the drug, he managed to take a nap himself.

But Mac wasn't asleep.

Mac's too perfect memory was treating him to a show of Jack's reactions today.

A show about how bad things were.

And how much worse they could have been.

Or would be next time.


	30. Chapter 30

Mac wasn't exactly relaxed, but he'd stopped envisioning Jack's panic-stricken eyes when he'd first pulled that hood off his head over and over again, when their pathetically small and rickety looking plane suddenly lost a couple hundred feet of altitude. It leveled off quickly enough, but it had been plenty to catapult Mac's heartrate into 'I've been doing sprints while being chased by velociraptors' territory and it jostled Jack enough to thrust his bad shoulder against the armrest he'd fallen asleep against. Jack's cry of pain made Mac immediately forget his anxiety about the palpably inadequate aircraft they were stuck in and he moved carefully to his partner's side, eyeing him warily, as if to make sure Jack was going to accept his approach. Jack's eyes were narrowed with pain and his opposite hand was under his jacket, pressing the wound in his shoulder. He saw the way Mac was looking at him and forced himself to nod at the seat next to him, even though he had a strong urge to tell the kid to go away. He kind of wanted to tell the whole world to go away, but he was finally getting to a place where he knew that it was the drugs he'd been given and not his own thinking, so he was pretty determined to stubborn his way past that if he could.

"I'm alright, kid," he said quietly. His voice sounded terse even to him, but he did think he sounded less pissed off than before, so that was an improvement.

Mac shook his head sadly. "I didn't bring anything worth a damn for pain, Jack … I'm sorry … I didn't think …"

Jack frowned for a second. "We there already?"

Mac glanced at his watch. "Can't be. Another half hour probably."

"Pitch of the engine just changed; so did the angle of the plane. We've started a decent." When it came to all things that moved through the sky, Mac trusted Jack's judgement implicitly, even if he was probably concussed, definitely sick and injured, and drugged to the eyeballs. Jack knew his aircraft.

Mac's eyes widened a little bit, but he just held up a hand in a 'hold on' gesture and moved toward the open cockpit. The pilot explained in fragmented English, unconsciously interspersed with barely intelligible Ukrainian accented Russian, that they were headed into another snow storm and his craft would not make it to the St. Petersburg airport. They were landing in his cousin's frozen over wheat field.

Mac tried bargaining with the man, offering twice whatever he'd been promised to try to get them to the city, saying with desperation in his eyes and his voice that his friend needed medical attention, that there was a plane waiting for them, but the pilot was determined.

The landing was about as rough as they expected, and even though they'd braced for it, the pain that laced through Jack had caused him to lose consciousness for a couple of minutes. When he finally came around, he was in so much pain, was so disoriented, that he took a random swing at the person shaking him and connected with the side of a more-sluggish-than-he-expected-to-be MacGyver's head. He stumbled back and nearly fell over himself, but seeing Jack's eyes opened again, he looked relieved rather than angry and the first thing he said was, "Sorry I hurt you, man. Are you okay?"

Jack shook his head for a second. "I will be, kid. I didn't mean ta … You got any more of that make-me-feel-less-crazy juice? Because if we're gonna get outta this, I can't be doin' stupid shit like clockin' my best friend."

One corner of Mac's mouth lifted in the closest thing to a smile he'd felt in … well, in a while. "Yeah, I've got a few more. Are you sure you want me to ..?"

"Just do it before I change my mind," Jack said, and he almost managed a little humor that time.

Mac got another one of the cylinders out of his bag and uncapped it. He raised an eyebrow at Jack. "Okay. On three. If you promise not to hit me again."

0-0-0

Despite steadily falling snow and the pilot's assurance that the local doctor was a very nice man, not to mention an offer from the farmer cousin and his wife to stay and ride out the storm, Jack was as determined as ever to get to St. Petersburg and go home. Not that Mac could really blame him, even if it did seem risky. Mac called Phoenix to let them know what was happening and somehow Matty talked the farmer into letting Mac and Jack take one of his trucks. Apparently, the promise was a generous one because the man had shaken Mac's hand warmly and sent them on their way with a thermos full of something called _sbiten_. Mac said he didn't think drinking it was a very good idea since it was clearly an alcoholic beverage from the smell, but after a few thermos caps' full Jack certainly seemed to be in a better mood and in less pain, so he didn't press the issue.

They were stuck on the tarmac of the Pulkovo Airport for hours while the worst of the snow passed, but it let Steve get Jack settled onto one of the couches, all cleaned up and medicated until he was something at least resembling comfortable, and the drugs Murdoc had used on him were being consistently driven from his system through the same IV drip delivering antibiotics and managing his pain. Mac finally had a chance to call Matty and completely fill her in, as well as get updated on the status of his house (the crime scene crew was done and his power and phone were restored). Then he called Riley just to check in and let her know Jack was safe and doing okay.

Finally, he called Mel. She said she was glad Jack was okay, but over the course of the brief phone call, she asked him three times if he was really alright, too. She didn't like the way he sounded and she said so. Mac told her honestly that he'd had a really rough couple of days and that as much as he wanted to cook her the dinner he owned her, he'd take a rain check and another evening of her tomato soup and grilled cheese if he could get it. She told him she'd come over to his place and make it so he could eat it in his pajamas, which she thought he'd earned at least a long weekend in. As far as Mac was concerned, that sounded like Heaven. But he told her it would have to wait until Steve let Jack come home. He couldn't just leave him at Medical. Could she make sure there was a double room? Just so he had a place to sleep while Jack was there? He was beat, but he didn't want to sleep on the flight in case Jack needed him.

Not long after takeoff, the exhaustion he'd admitted to Mel won out and he dozed off sitting on the sofa across from Jack. They were still hours from home when Mac shoved himself up to sitting, gasping at the pain in his side. He swore and took a couple of deep breaths, not quite processing why he hurt so much exactly, just trying to free his thoughts from the heavy weight of the nightmare he'd been having. He looked over at Jack, who despite the turbulent flight and his fever-flushed cheeks, was sleeping peacefully. That made him feel a little better.

His thoughts wandered back to his dream, not one where Murdoc had killed Jack, not even where Murdoc had managed to turn Jack (because that could never happen in Mac's mind), but where Mac was forced to become what Murdoc wanted him to be just to keep his people (Jack, go ahead and say it MacGyver, to keep Jack) free from the torment Murdoc and his brother would so gleefully inflict on him. After everything Jack had ever done for him, he could never let that happen to him. If he hadn't just taken off and left Jack home alone, hungover and vulnerable, if the full detail had been at the house – hell if he had been at the house, this would never have …

Steve was standing next to him. "Hey," he said with concern. "You okay, Mac?"

Mac nodded, running his hands over his face, but almost subconsciously careful not to raise his arms enough to run them through his hair. He nodded vaguely. "Mmm. Tired."

He raised his eyebrows, looking every inch the disapproving dad. "When was the last time you ate?"

Mac glanced at Jack, then looked up at Steve with a half-smile. "Not recently enough for you guys, I'm sure."

Steve shook his head. "That would explain why you look like you're about to keel over. I let that happen, first thing Jack'll do when he wakes up is kick my ass. And don't you ever tell him I said so, but he could do it, too."

Mac snickered. That was purely to get a smile out of him and he knew it. No self-respecting Navy man would ever say such a thing about a soldier, Delta or otherwise, and vice versa. Accepting the proffered protein bar that seemed to materialize out of nowhere, Mac asked, "How's Jack?"

Steve tipped his most reassuring smile. "I've seen Jack banged up a lot worse ... His vitals a good, considering. And the infection isn't great, but I started him on antibiotics already. We'll get it knocked right out."

Mac wanted to be reassured, but his expression was grim. "What about the damage to his shoulder in general?"

Steve was thoughtful, wanting to be honest, but also wanting Mac to relax a little and maybe eat and get some sleep. He was pale as a ghost, with massive circles under his eyes, but Steve knew if he said so, Mac would just get defensive. "He'll probably be out of commission for a little while, between surgery and recovery, but I don't think there's any real permanent damage. Not the kind that'll slow Jack down much anyway."

Mac nodded slowly, but didn't respond.

Steve tipped his chin at the protein bar. "I want you to eat that, and then I'll leave you alone, okay? Don't make me go wake up Big Brother so we can glare at you together."

Mac was pretty sure Steve was just ribbing him, but he opened the wrapper anyway and started gnawing on its chewy carboard flavored contents, thinking that having one teammate give him dad eyebrows tonight was enough, not acknowledging that he didn't want Jack worrying about him, that he didn't feel like he deserved to be worried about at the moment.

Once Steve went back to his seat, Mac resumed his vigil watching Jack sleep, this time determined not to drift off himself, lest he slip back into that nightmare.

0-0-0

When they first got back to Phoenix, things felt very busy for a little while. Before anything could really be done about Jack's shoulder there were x-rays and consults and people in and out of the room. Mac sort of hovered on the periphery, looking more anxious and tired as time wore on. Jack looked his way every once in a while with a slightly concerned little frown, but that was a far as his expression every progressed since the staff was keeping him pretty liberally medicated. Everyone knew just being there stressed Jack out more than he'd openly say, and now at least Steve and Mel had some inkling as to why, so nobody wanted him to feel even vaguely uncomfortably after what he'd been through the last few days. When the specialist Matty had gotten out of bed and flown in from the east coast had finally shown up and was about to wheel Jack off for the surgical repair to his shoulder, he tugged at the sleeve of his partner's jacket.

"Hey, bud. Thanks for comin' after me."

Mac shook his head. "I'm sorry I needed to Jack. I'm sorry I …"

"Don't be a dumb-ass," Jack drawled, calling Mac out in a way he probably wouldn't have without lots of good drugs in his system. "Don't you go blamin' yourself for every little thing in this world that goes wrong, kid. You always have. And I won't put up with it another minute."

Mac felt his eyes burn a little. "Jack, seriously, I'm sorry whether you think I should be or not."

"Okay. That stuff they gave me was awful … but you already know that first hand, don'tcha. Makes you do and say all kinds of stuff you wouldn't normally. Right?"

Mac swallowed hard. "Yeah," he almost whispered.

"Well, I'm sorry for all the stuff I did and said anyway then."

Jesus, he hated it when Jack actually used logic. He was kind of good at it when he bothered. "Fine. Then I'm sorry for the stuff I said and did when they drugged _me_ ," he countered.

Jack gave him a definitely medicated grin as he was wheeled out of the room. "Alright. You can make it up to me by taking me home the second anyone at Medical shows the slightest sign of weakness."

"Deal."

Mac was standing in the middle of the room, unzipping his jacket to hang up, trying to decide if he wanted to lay down in the bed Mel had made sure was arranged for him or if he should go distract himself with beginning the mission report while Jack was in surgery when Steve startled him by appearing in the doorway, asking, "You want me to have someone bring you actual dinner?"

Mac jumped at the sound of Steve's voice and his side twinged sharply with pain. He found his hand pressed to his side and remembered that was where the shrapnel from the explosion had grazed him. When he took it away, his fingers were sticky with blood. A little dizzy with exhaustion, not to mention previously forgotten injury, Mac nearly lost his footing.

Steve was immediately on his elbow, steadying him. "Mac, what the hell happened?"

Without even answering, only thinking that he was determined to be a less argumentative patient after trying to look after Jack, Mac dutifully slipped out of his jacket and backed up onto the spare bed. "Got grazed with something when we blew the building in Tula. I was more worried about Jack than that I guess."

"And when were you planning on mentioning that?" Jack had clearly been unaware that Mac was hurt, or Steve knew full well he would have said something.

Mac just gave him a sheepish smile. "I honestly forgot, Doc. I was worried about Jack. It was my f … I was worried," he repeated.

Steve didn't say anything for a minute. "Alright. You were definitely worried enough that I'll buy that. How about we clean you up now?"

Mac nodded, "Alright."

"Good man. Lose the shirt. I'll be right back."

Mac just did as he was told. It honestly felt too good to know Jack was being taken care of and, if he was honest with himself, to be lying down to care about much else right now. He didn't pay much attention to what Steve was doing. He had almost dozed off and felt himself jerk back to full wakefulness.

"You okay, Mac?" Steve asked. Mac looked slightly bewildered. "This is gonna take a couple more stitches. Need more lidocaine?"

Mac shook his head, "I'm alright. Didn't realize you'd given me anything to begin with. I was kind of in my own head."

Steve patted his arm. "Almost done."

As Steve was finishing up with securing a clean bandage over Mac's side, Mel showed up in her civvies with the duffel bag full of his clothes that he'd asked her to go get when he'd texted her on their approach to LA.

"Mac!" she almost shouted, moving quickly to the other side of the bed he was stretched out on. "You didn't tell me you were hurt! I would have gotten here sooner!"

He propped himself up on his elbows. "I forgot. Honestly."

She stared at him with disbelief. Steve backed him up. "He was a nervous wreck about Jack. I think he really did. Besides he got that way by getting blown up, so I think a little temporary memory loss is understandable."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and he pushed himself the rest of the way to sitting and let himself be wrapped into a hug. He closed his eyes for a minute, hugging her back. When she released him, she unzipped his duffel bag and handed him sweats and a t-shirt. "How convenient that you were planning to sleep here anyway."

He gave her a small smile. "I guess it is."

She widened her eyes first at him, then at Steve, then back at him. Her voice was teasing but her question was almost serious. "What? No arguing? No whining? No calling me bossy and mean?"

He shook his head and gave her a genuine grin. "Maybe never again."


	31. Chapter 31

Even a reasonably compliant Mac could not be persuaded to just eat dinner and go to sleep until he was certain Jack was out of surgery and doing well. He'd been on his feet and at Jack's bedside before Brian had set the break on the bed. Even groggy from anesthesia and downright floaty on pain medication, he noticed that Mac was in his preferred pajamas and a bathrobe. "Hey, bud," he'd murmured sleepily. "You okay?"

"Of course I am, Jack," he'd assured his partner, and neither Mel nor Steve even considered contradicting him at that moment. "I just figured if you woke up and found me awake in my dirty clothes in the chair here you'd yell at me."

Jack's eyes had slipped closed again then, but he said, "You already took care of me, you damned sure better be taking care of yourself," before drifting back to sleep.

When it became clear that Jack was out for the night, Mac finally crawled into the other bed and let them bring him some food. He ate it, too. Steve said he had two options; option one was he could eat some dinner and take some oral antibiotics to hopefully prevent an infection from the godawful mess in his side that he'd let go unattended for most of a day, and option two was he could turn up his nose at his dinner tray and someone could start an IV for his prescribed antibiotics and instead of tomorrow ending with him deciding whether or not to use that bed to hang around just because Jack might need him, he could stay on as a patient for a while longer. Mac just pulled the tray table closer and asked, "Am I really that regularly unreasonable that you feel like you have to come in prepared with a threatening plan b?"

Mel sat down on the foot of his bed between his feet and put a hand on his leg. "Almost always. But I've decided to think it's cute."

"I appreciate that."

Steve grinned and shook his head. "I haven't."

Mac chewed and swallowed a bite of some nondescript reheated cafeteria pasta and managed a grin that was as much apology as it was to cover his exhaustion and guilty conscience. "That's also fair."

Not long after that, the last almost-week caught up to him and he dozed off. His dream from the flight home wormed its way back into his subconscious and put itself on hellish repeat. When he startled awake several hours later with a gasp, he was prevented from just bolting upright by the arm draped across his chest. His eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room and he found Melody asleep on her side, balanced precariously on the edge of his bed. He had an arm under her and it had gone mostly to sleep, but he shifted over a little, moving closer to the opposite edge, and pulled her toward him.

She stirred. "Hey, you need something?" she murmured.

"I'm okay. Just keeping you from falling out of bed. How's Jack?"

"Sleeping," she replied, snuggling further into his shoulder. "Like a good patient," she added with a strong whispered hint.

"I thought you were going home," he whispered.

"I changed my mind," she said quietly, reaching up and brushing hair off his forehead, not because it needed to be, but just because she wanted to.

"You didn't have to stay with me," he asserted

She gently pulled him closer. "Almost as soon as you dosed off you started having bad dreams."

"That happens to me a lot."

"I know," she said, not reminding him that she'd had to patch him up after his sleep problems had sent him traveling while unconscious last fall. "I thought knowing you weren't alone might help."

He put his other arm over her, intertwining his fingers and encircling her in his arms, and just closed his eyes again. "It does."

0-0-0

Jack woke up by degrees. The first thing he processed was that he was in a bed. He knew it was a hospital bed; it was stiff and crinkly sounding and too narrow for a guy with shoulders as broad as his, but it was also warm and covered with clean sheets so it was a 1000% improvement over the last place he'd woken up. Memories started to filter in then and he knew he was back at Phoenix. His shoulder ached in a dull uninteresting sort of way which, if memory served, meant the tape he could feel pulling his arm hair and undoubtedly holding an IV in place was carrying the good stuff and he was just going to go ahead and be grateful for it. He was vaguely concerned that he could feel the adhesive pads of a heart monitor stuck to various parts of his chest, but he did recall having surgery, so maybe they were just leftovers. All in all, he felt better than terrible. And he had the most vital piece of information, the one he always needed. Mac was fine. Mac had busted right in and saved his ass and gotten them both home in one piece. Jack even remembered very clearly seeing him before he fell asleep for the night.

When Jack opened his eyes, he could tell from the light filtering through the blinds that it was still early in the morning. Good. He hadn't slept through breakfast. Mac was sitting next to his bed, just sort of watching him, eyes searching his face like he was waiting for something bad to happen. He must've worried the hell out of the poor kid. Jack cracked a still semi-sleepy smile. "Hey, kid. You get some sleep like you said you were gonna or should I start today by yelling at ya?"

Something seemed to release inside Mac and he smiled back, his shoulders seeming to lower visibly. "Yelling is not necessary. I appreciate you asking and not jumping to conclusions, old man."

"I figured since you're still in your pjs, maybe you actually did what you said." Jack looked around for a minute and found the means to adjust the bed so he could sit up. "Any word on the bad guys?"

Mac shrugged, then made a face. "The cloud cover made getting them on the sat feed really spotty. Ri did her best. We think they might have headed into Finland. Matty has people on it."

Jack nodded. "Well … we'll get 'em." He took a hard look at Mac. The kids face had several bruises that he didn't think were done turning purple yet, but he did look like he was telling the truth about sleeping at least. "I know we covered this on the plane, but thanks again for saving my ass, bud. That was all pretty bad."

This time Mac looked away. "I … I'm glad you're okay," felt safe enough at the moment, but he couldn't make himself look back at Jack. He suddenly felt certain that if he did he was either going to confess his fear driven dream or flat out burst into tears like a little kid, and he had no interest in doing either.

Jack frowned. "Me, too. Glad you're alright, too. I feel like I oughta yell at you for comin' in there on your own like that, but I know it won't do a lick o' good. I may just yell at Matilda for lettin' ya though."

"He said if I didn't he'd kill you, Jack." Mac paused. "And it's not really Matty's fault. I told her I'd quit and go in anyway."

Jack chuckled in spite of himself and then regretted it. He wasn't on enough pain meds to keep him from feeling the effects of being a human punching bag, not completely anyway. "Mel's right. You are stubborn and ridiculous." Then he tugged on Mac's sleeve, trying to get him to look his way. Mac was clearly avoiding his eye. "Listen, bud. Nothing he coulda done to me woulda made me want you to risk him hurtin' you, to risk him tryin' to turn you into what he is. You hear me, now? He could never do it and you'd just wind up dead, or hurt so bad you might as well be."

Mac flinched, almost imperceptibly.

"What is it, kid?"

Mac considered not answered, but realized that wouldn't do either of them any good. "I thought you believed he already had … when you first saw me … I scared the hell out of you Jack. I don't think I've ever seen you look like that and …" He accidentally glanced Jack's way that time and the shine in his blue eyes was a dead giveaway to his partner.

"Ah, hell, Mac," Jack said, sitting up all the way and swinging his legs off the side of the bed, making room next to himself. Mac could tell he wasn't taking no for an answer, so he got up and sat next to him, let Jack put an arm around him. "I wasn't afraid of you. I thought they'd found a way to use your face, see."

Mac swallowed hard, but looked sideways at Jack's face for a minute. "What do you mean?"

"They'd been using your voice for days. I know they were trying to condition me. I know plenty about conditioning. They wanted me … not just to hurt you … but to _want_ to hurt you. They thought that could break you, put you on their side. For a minute, I thought they'd just upped their game and goddamn, I've never been so scared in my life, kid."

Mac tried to say something, but his voice just didn't seem to be working.

Jack reached up and ran his hand over his eyes, swearing when it almost pulled out his IV. "I can stand a hell of a lot, but they were crawling inside my head. I just wanted whatever it took to end it before they could make me want to hurt you, man."

Jack took a shuddering breath, and now Mac slid his arm around Jack, careful not to hurt his friend. "I know you'd never do that Jack, no matter what they did to you."

"I appreciate your confidence, kid, but …"

"Ellesmere Island, Jack."

"Oh, hey that wasn't …"

"Yes, it was. And it was worse than Cairo, worse than Afghanistan. Probably worse than hell, if I believed in it. And I'll never bring it up again. But you're Jack. That's all I need to know, brother."

Jack called Mac brother all the time, but Mac rarely said anything so demonstrative. It made Jack smile a little in spite of the pain he was in, the events of the last few days, and even the memories of a mission so bad they didn't even mark its anniversary. Jack gave him a little squeeze around the shoulders. "Alright then. So, what's still eatin' you then."

God damn it. The man always knew. "I … I've told you …" He stopped, took a breath and tried again. "I've told you I've thought a lot about all the crap he said about us being alike. I just … I still think a lot about it. I worry it wouldn't take much of a lever to make him right. And you already know how I feel about you, Jack."

Jack could hear someone approaching the room and decided he'd better break the serious mood so he gave Mac a teasing grin. "But why don't you tell me anyway. I love makin' you say it."

Mac shook his head and gave Jack a gentle shove as he got up off the bed. "Asshole."

When he turned, the light highlighted just exactly how dark one of his bruises was. Jack frowned. "What the hell happened to your face anyway?"

"You hit him while you were all doped up," Mel supplied as she came into the room, pushing a car with a computer on top of it.

Jack's mouth hung open, a look of blank horror on his face. "I _hit_ you?"

Mac just shrugged. "A little. Don't worry about it."

The expression Jack was wearing said he was worried about it and he would probably continue to worry about it for a while, but Mel was currently standing next to him, interfering with his guilt trip leaving the station. "You get yourself the rest of the way back into that bed, Jack Dalton," she ordered, as she typed a few things into her computer and then got a blood pressure cuff off one of its shelves.

"Yes, ma'am," Jack replied. He knew better than to cross Mel when she was using her _I'm the boss_ voice.

Mac gave him a sympathetic grin from behind Mel's back and started to walk quietly toward the bathroom. Without looking up from what she was doing, Mel called out, "And where do you think you're going this morning, Mac?"

He stopped and looked guiltily around. "Um, I was going to grab a shower, and maybe get dressed and go home and feed my fish and …"

"Not a chance," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder as she inflated the blood pressure cuff around Jack's arm. She noted Jack's raised eyebrows, so clearly Mac hadn't enlightened his partner as to what had happened to him. "When I left a while ago, you were starting to run a fever. Steve said he recommends another day here with us keeping an eye on you after how much ancient Russian church he picked out of your side and Matty liked the idea because she wants time to figure out security."

As she took the blood pressure cuff off Jack's arm, she almost laughed at the look he was giving his partner. "What's she talkin' about Mac?"

He shifted from one foot to the other, looking amusingly young in his robe with his bed-tousled hair. "I kind of got _slightly_ hurt when we blew up the church …"

"Kind of? Slightly?"

"And I also maybe forgot about it for a minute?"

"A minute?" Jack glared.

"Okay, for like fourteen hours or so. But I'm fine now." Jack and Mel were both giving him a look, as though expecting the statement to be followed up on with something they would have to counter. He shrugged. "I mean it wasn't serious …" he trailed off and then just huffed a sigh and climbed back into his bed. "But, whatever."

Mel walked across the room and tucked the blankets around him giving his hand an affectionate squeeze before resuming her more business-like demeanor. "I'll feed your fish."

Jack looked between the two of them and then raised his eyebrows at Mel. "There's been a lot of bad guys drugging people with some pretty strange stuff, but right now I want to know what the hell you good guys have doped my partner with."

Mac grinned and shook his head.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N Got some requests for a little more H/C and honestly I felt like Mac was just behaving himself too much, so this is what my brain did with that._

Jack was feeling pretty decent until Steve came in a couple of hours later and cataloged his injuries for him. Then he figured out that how not horrible he felt was definitely a function of pain meds, and that as soon as they started tapering those aforementioned drugs he was probably in for weeks of misery. The soft tissue damage he could see for himself and he knew that would heal up, no problem. Where they'd split over his eye would probably be a cool new scar, but he got a look at it in the hand mirror in the nightstand and had already decided he sort of liked it. The busted ribs would be a heaping helping of no fun at all, but they weren't exactly a surprise after brass knuckles and steel toed boots, and at least his bones had had the decency not to poke into his lungs, for which he was eternally grateful. Nothing was ruptured, which Steve said meant he was either hard as woodpecker lips or there really was a God and he had a soft spot for big dumb Texans, but he had a fair amount of internal bruising mostly to his kidneys that they needed to keep tabs on for a while with regular blood work (news that Jack wasn't thrilled about, although he couldn't even pretend to be surprised).

Also unsurprising was the fact that, in addition to the infection from his shoulder, he was dehydrated all to hell and had the beginnings of pneumonia, probably owing to the freezing basement they'd kept him in and those busted up ribs. Steve didn't come out and say so, but he knew he was looking at more time in Medical than he would generally consider adequate punishment for his worst enemy, meaning at least a few days, probably a week, and plenty of time sitting on his ass at home besides. He also knew from the look on Mac's face (and its decreasing color) as Steve went down the list, that the kid was taking every bump and bruise personally, and by personally, Jack meant that Mac was still blaming himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to do about that yet, and the fresh concussion that he hadn't needed a doctor to point out to him, was not making the thought processes around sorting that out any easier than the gallon of pain meds that was making the rest of the crap that had been thrown at his body tolerable.

Mac had done, what Jack thought was, a decent job of not rolling his eyes when Steve looked over the bruising on his face, and when the doc said he was fairly certain now that the blows to the head (or the blast from the drone) hadn't resulted in any kind of observable concussion, Mac's "Obviously," had been almost entirely under his breath. He'd grumbled, although not loudly, when he learned that he was, in fact, definitely running a fever, and for the moment they were just going to operate on the assumption that it was related to his lacerated side and continue treating it with antibiotics. Jack thought he could hardly be blamed for trying when he asked, "I mean, it's not a high fever, right? I could realistically not stay here again tonight?"

Steve pretended he hadn't said anything whatsoever, which was generally his preferred tactic if Mac wasn't really doubling down on arguing about something. He just said, "Once we're sure we've got the right antibiotic, you'll be all set." Then, he told Mac he wanted to get some x-rays this morning to make sure he hadn't broken or cracked any ribs when that chuck of debris tore up his side.

Mac tried to bite his tongue again, but Jack could see his resolve weakening, and he wondered what had made his friend try to turn over a new leaf to begin with. "We already know I've got some fractures from Sacramento. Can we please just skip it?"

"Humor me," Steve said with a wry quirk of his lips.

"Fine," he said tersely.

Jack gave his partner a funny look. If he hadn't felt so damned bad about the bruises on the kid's face, he would almost have found the situation funny. He did snicker a little when Mel showed up ten minutes later to deliver him down the hall for those x-rays and had the standard wheelchair with her. He raised his blond eyebrows until they disappeared into his hair and just got out of bed and walked over to the door, like he didn't see it. She shook her head and rolled her eyes and decided that it wasn't a battle she was going to pick. Mac even managed not to say, "I told you so," when the x-rays came back clean of any new damage, but staying at Medical as a patient, especially since he clearly didn't consider himself really injured, (although it was definitely an incident that would have been a pretty standard two day stay for most agents) was already wearing on his last nerve.

When Matty stopped by to see them she said there were still security concerns, but if either of them were ready to go home before things were sorted out, there was a two-bedroom apartment in the secure Phoenix housing complex prepped and ready to go, conveniently down the hall from Nurse Sullivan's place. Mac grinned broadly and asked Jack if he'd feel too abandoned if his partner selected a real bed over the one next to him here and Jack, feeling a pang of guilt every time he looked at the left side of Mac's face, said of course he wouldn't, so long as the doc thought he was good to leave. Steve hadn't, and it had clearly taken every ounce of spy acting talent Mac had not to look annoyed.

When Mel's shift was over in the middle of the afternoon, she came in and offered to get Jack some real pajamas from their house when she went by to feed Mac's fish and she promised to come back with some good take-out instead of crappy cafeteria food for dinner and maybe some decent DVDs to while away some of their time. Mac wasn't trying to look like a kicked puppy or anything, Jack thought, in fact he was making every effort to look like nothing about this bothered him, but he looked about as dejected as someone can. Mel kissed him goodbye, holding his face for a minute and giving him a sympathetic smile. "You really look a lot better this afternoon. If you can keep up this whole new good patient routine, I'm sure he'll cut you loose in the morning." Mac had just sighed and nodded.

When Mel returned around seven that evening, Jack gave her a knowing smile. Mac's bed was empty, his duffel bag was missing from the visitor's chair, and the bathroom door was closed. She put the bag of tacos and the drink carrier down on Jack's tray table and his shopping bag full of pjs on the foot of his bed. "What's happening, Jack?" she asked casually, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

Jack chuckled. "Your evening replacement broke your cooperative patient. Who, by the way, I don't know how you ever got to begin with."

Mel shook her head. She didn't know if Mac would be mad at her for telling Jack or not, but she figured since it involved him he sort of had a right to know. "You delivered him to me. He said you were an absolute nightmare to take care of all doped up, and got all whiny when he had to give you a shot of the counter-drug Steve sent along, and you even punched him. So, he was determined to not be such a crappy patient himself." Jack felt a flush creep into his cheeks. Poor kid. Damn.

"So, how did my night nurse break my new model patient?"

Then Jack just shrugged. "I guess there's some standing policy about some blood panel once every twenty-four hours you're here?"

Mel nodded. Not that it came up most of the time since the infirmary was usually pretty treat-and-release or dealing with something serious enough to require labs for other reasons anyway. "It's to make sure infections don't get started here more than anything else. Usually we leave orders for you and Mac to be left out of that rotation because … Well, we know when to make exceptions," she offered, wrinkling her nose at him and crinkling her eyes.

Jack gave her a small smile. They'd eased off his pain meds some this afternoon and the smile was a little harder to come by. She noted the way his eyes were staying narrow at the corners and made a mental note to check his chart. Foster had been on duty, which, in her mind explained a less than patient-centered decision, but he had gone home sick according to the board. That meant as of now Anderson was the floor doc tonight and he was a good compassionate man; if she thought Jack needed more aggressive pain management he'd probably listen. If he was reluctant to go against Foster, she'd just call Steve. "Well, either they forgot or they forgot to forget or somethin' because Tim came in and said he had orders for it … And it was alright for me, 'cause he just used this nice line you all already got goin' for 'im, but poor Mac, man."

"Oh, no. Tim isn't your best bet if you're a tough stick, and Mac is like getting blood out of fiber glass," she groaned.

"Squirmy, unhappy, surly fiber glass," Jack agreed. "Anyway, he poked him about ten times and said he needed to get a new kit to try again. When he left, Mac got up, said if he wanted anybody's orders for anything he'd still be in the Army, took his bag, and headed for the bathroom. I do believe he means to go home. And I'd try to talk him out of it, but I don't think the guy who used your face as a punching bag less than two days ago gets to have an opinion about what you do or where you go unless you ask for it."

Entirely unable to stop herself, Mel spontaneously hugged Jack then. "You didn't do it on purpose and he knows it, dummy."

He hugged her too, even though it hurt a little to do it. "I appreciate it, Mel, I do, but …"

She sat up, pulling out of the hug. "No buts." Mel was back in charge and the fact that she was in yoga pants and a t-shirt again instead of scrubs didn't change the tone one bit. "You're his family and the most important person in his life and he'd be furious if he knew you were beating yourself up over that."

"He's beating himself up over this." Jack gestured at … well, at himself.

"We'll work on that, Jack." She squeezed his hand and got up. "Don't let him leave if he comes out before I get back."

Mel disappeared out the door. Jack heard the shower turn off a few minutes later and could hear Mac banging around the bathroom and using his electric razor when Mel came back in. She smiled at Jack and began doing something with his IV. "They started tapering your pain meds way too early. Steve is having a fit. This should help."

Jack immediately felt warmth begin to spread through him again and the tension that had been building back up since the second shift at Medical had started began slowly softening around the edges. "That better already. Thanks."

She nodded. "You really okay with being alone tonight?"

Jack shrugged. He didn't want Mac to feel like he had to be here. There was a lot going on behind those blue eyes tonight and Tim being Tim had just been the catalyst for this little reaction. Jack grinned to himself. That right there was a chemistry metaphor. Some time he'd have to tell that one to Mac. But not tonight. Mac was way to wound up for even science related stuff. "I'll be alright," he drawled.

"Dawson's next door with a fractured femur. Took a fall in the Alps. Going out of his mind with boredom. And there's a Cowboys/Giants playoff game on at eight," Mel offered.

"Ah hell yeah!" Jack grinned, both with the renewed pain relief and at the prospect of a good game with a divisional rivalry on screen and in room. "You get 'em to wheel that New Yorker right on over here and we'll eat some microwave popcorn and I'll watch his team lose!"

Mel stepped out again to make the arrangements for her patients. When she came back, Mac was just coming out of the steamy bathroom, fully dressed, down to his tied hiking boots and slightly blood-stained leather coat. He stopped, looking for all the world like an animal caught in a set of headlights. "Um, hey Mel."

"Hi, Mac. I brought you dinner, but I'm guessing you'd rather not hang around to eat it," she said pleasantly.

He sighed and looked away for a second. "I …"

"I already fed your fish," she said, as though that's what he was about to say.

"I … I was just going to go home and crash," he explained quickly. "I can sleep better there anyway and I'm perfectly capable of taking pills three times a day."

"Of course you are," she agreed. Then her tone change. "But you are not going home."

"I'm not?"

"If you can't be a cooperative patient and stay here you just won yourself twenty-four hour high-quality nursing care at a private facility; namely, my apartment, with … you guessed it, Nurse Mel. And I will make sure you do everything you are supposed to be doing between now and tomorrow morning, at which time you will come into Medical with me and discuss with Dr. Rodgers his plan for you care. Deal?"

She wasn't really asking. He smirked just a little. "You really are bossy and mean."

"Now that didn't last long." She laughed. "I asked you if we have a deal?"

"I guess we do."

"Good," she smiled and her authoritarian tone and demeanor fell away as she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around him gently, careful of his bandaged side. "No hospital beds there, I'm afraid, just a very comfy couch and the promise of grilled cheese and tomato soup if you put on your pajamas and rest like you're supposed to be doing here."

Mac smiled. "That I can cooperate with."

Mel released him with a grin. "Finally! We've found something."

"'Night, Jack. See you in the morning," Mac called to Jack as he started toward the door.

"G'night," Jack said, pleased Mac had someone to look out for him tonight, and equally pleased the kid would actually be someplace he would get some rest.

Mac's smile became a little more genuine as he turned back toward Mel. "Is there company other than a tabby cat on that comfy couch?" he asked as he started out the door.

She winked. "If you behave. Be out in a minute." She turned back toward Jack, who gave her a grin as she checked his monitors and IV one last time. Tim was perfectly alright, and he'd really come a long way, but he was young and well, Jack was her teammate, was Mac's … friend didn't even begin to cover it but it was close enough.

"Company on a comfy couch and comfort food? I'm getting' a raw deal here, Melody," he teased.

"No, you're not," she said, as she leaned over and adjusted his pillows, putting the TV remote in his hand. She headed for the door, wondering if Mac waited or if he was already waiting in the car. "You've got tacos, a new roommate on his way, and a good football game coming up in less than forty minutes." She paused in the doorway, glad she left the best for last. "And I think you've got a visitor coming your way this evening as soon as Matty's done with the current briefing." Jack raised a questioning eyebrow. "Sarah landed in L.A. about two hours ago, Jack."


	33. Chapter 33

When Mac pushed the door to Jack's room open, he was surprised to find his partner alone, the other bed empty. "Hey, Jack, where's Dawson? Sore loser or sore winner? I forgot to check the score."

Jack, who Mac now noticed looked pretty beat for a guy who hadn't been out of bed farther than the bathroom in two days, rolled his eyes. "We will never speak of that game again, thank you very much."

"Aw, man. You _didn't_ kick him out over football. Did you?" Mac asked, and he was kidding, but given the week Jack had, and know what he'd felt like on that drug of the Organization's design, it wouldn't have surprised him all that much.

Jack shook his head, not really wanting to own up to the reason he was _sans_ roommate this morning, but knowing Mac would get there on his own anyway. "I wasn't much fun to share a room with last night." His eyes darted away from Mac's face for a second and back again. "Dreams."

Mac sat down on the bed, guilt clouding his eyes immediately. "I should have stayed."

Jack shook his head. "Well, you probably should have, but not because I needed my blankie, but because the doc wanted you to to begin with." Mac grinned and rolled his eyes. "You see him yet?"

Mac just shrugged. "I wanted to see how you were doing first. Has Sarah been by?"

Jack's face split into a grin. "She stopped in for a second last night. She's bringin' me breakfast this morning."

"Bagels?" Mac asked hopefully.

"Donuts! It's a long story but we have this tradition …"

Mac could hear the sounds of people making a fuss over impending cuteness in the hall so he got up off the bed as he said, "You've told me about the Netherlands. It's a good story. And donuts don't need a tradition, but that's a good one, too."

Sarah came through the door with a diaper bag over one shoulder, balancing a deep box with a picture of a donut on that hip, and carrying a coffee caddy in one hand, and supporting the back of a sling carrier holding baby Fred with the other arm. Mac relieved her of the breakfast goods, placing them in Jack's reach and set the diaper bag off on the other bed, thinking that since it was unoccupied (and was going to stay that way, damnit) it would make a passable changing table. With that taken care of he stepped back over by Jack's bed for the expected hug.

"Sarah! It's good to see you. You look well!"

"Better than you look," she teased. "You think you could stop trying to give a lady grey hair for five minutes maybe?"

"That's what I'm always sayin' to him," Jack piped up from his bed, angling not to be forgotten while Sarah hugs were being distributed.

"I was talkin' to you, too, Dalton." She tried to lean over to hug him, but it shifted Fred in the carrier and the baby started to fuss.

Mac grinned and put out his hands. "Here; I'll take her." Sarah carefully handed off her daughter. Mac snugged the baby against his good side, sat down on the other bed, rocking just a little, and she immediately quieted.

Sarah gave Jack an almost fierce hug that made him wince and pull his shoulder away, then she bit her lip and sort of climbed in beside him, sliding her arm around his good shoulder and was looking at Mac and Fred with a curious expression on her face.

"What?" he asked with a grin.

"I guess I just never figured you for a baby person. You seem like more of a … robot or engine … kind of guy."

Mac shrugged. "I love kids. For some reason, they don't generally think I'm a weird nerd. Kids usually think I'm cool. Who wouldn't like that? Right, Fred?" he asked the sleepy baby very seriously.

Sarah started to get up. "Not like I'm kicking you out, but I'd like to talk to Jack alone for a while if that's okay."

Mac shook his head. "No problem. I'll take Fred for a walk. Then you guys can really talk for a bit."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not."

Mac started to get up just as Mel came through the door. "Hey, guys," she waved at Sarah and Jack as she walked over to where Mac was sitting with the baby. "Mac, Steve wants to see you now."

"Alright; we were just heading for a walk anyway."

"I'll take her back, Mac," Sarah offered.

Mac just got to his feet and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder. "Don't be silly. Enjoy your breakfast."

Mac started toward the door with Mel beside him. "You just think Steve isn't gonna yell at you for leaving last night if you bring that baby," she teased.

"I _know_ he isn't gonna yell if I bring this baby. She's adorable and he loves babies."

"All you have to do is roll up your sleeve and show him how Tim butchered you and I'm sure you'll be off the hook."

"I'm not worried about it. And I'm _fine_. Which you already know since you just had to bandage me up this morning. I am _not_ putting up with that twice in one day by the way. One medic poking and prodding my side is more than plenty."

"Oh, just because you're ticklish and you don't think anyone's noticed."

"I am not …"

Their conversation faded down the hallway. "I think that's the most relaxed I've ever seen Mac," Sarah said thoughtfully. Then she laughed. "And aren't they just cute as a button?"

Jack was smiling, then his face grew a little more serious. "We used to be like that, too, you know."

"No, we weren't. We were more like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. But I think we could be like that. If we had a chance."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"Do we?" he asked, his voice a little husky. He didn't know if it was the medication, what he'd been through, or just the fact that he was tired of pretending he didn't do the mushy stuff, but he was going to say what needed saying today. Sarah looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Have a chance a mean?"

She smiled then, and she looked, God, she looked like the first time he met her. "I think we do."

0-0-0

"Good to be home?" Mac asked. "Well, okay, not home, but not in the Infirmary, which has got to count for something," he added as he handed Jack a glass of water and what looked to be a small mountain of pills.

Jack nodded, having to break the pills into three smaller piles to actually get them down without choking. Still, it was an improvement over an IV, and honestly, he thought the couch in the apartment Matty had set up for them in the Phoenix employee complex was more comfortably than the one at their place, so all in all, it was probably going to be a pretty good night. "It's great," Jack said agreeably, then he tipped his chin at Mac as his friend sat down next to him. "Quit scratchin' your stitches."

"Well, they itch!" he complained. "But Steve won't take them out for another two days."

"What's stoppin' you from takin' 'em out yourself? It's not like you haven't done it before."

Mac shook his head. "Mel says if I touch them she's going to superglue my fingers together. And I told her that wouldn't do her any good because cyanoacrylates dissolve easily in acetone and I have some in the garage … But apparently that's not the point." He smiled fondly, then he tipped his chin at Jack. "Finish your pills; those're the antibiotics."

Jack glared at him before swallowing the last handful, and he almost meant it. "You are picking up mean and bossy habits from your girlfriend, boy."

Instead of defending himself or denying the relationship, two old defaults Jack was half expecting, Mac shrugged. "I just want you to be okay, Jack."

Jack reached out and squeezed his partner's shoulder. "I will be, kid." Mac looked at Jack, then quickly away again. "How 'bout you? Aren't you still supposed to be takin' some antibiotics, too?"

Mac huffed a sigh. "Yeah." He got up and went to the kitchenette, grabbed a bottle of water and swallowed his own pills, making an elaborate face, as though he could taste them.

Jack laughed. "If you'd just let somebody fix you up right away, you probably wouldn't have even gotten sick ya big dumb genius."

Mac flopped back down on the couch. "I told you, I really forgot."

Jack shook his head. It was about time to have this out. "No, you really hid it from me. Then you buried it so you could put me first because, as usual, you were taken on responsibility that didn't belong on your shoulders. That's different than forgetting."

Mac's hand went through his hair in a nervous gesture so old Jack knew the kid didn't even realize he did it anymore and it was a dead giveaway that you'd hit close to the mark of his true feelings. His voice was firm, but he didn't make eye contact, "You weren't in any condition to be worried about me, Jack."

"I am always in a condition to be worried about you. I will be worried about you the day they're throwin' dirt on me, kid."

Mac suddenly got up, clearly furious. "Don't say things like that!"

"Hey now," Jack said very seriously, "Settle down. I was just kidding you a little. No reason to start yellin'. I'm fine. You're fine. We're as close to home as we're gonna get until we get our sights on the bad guys. It's all over but the nightmares. And a couple bad dreams aren't the worst we've been through together, right?"

Mac nodded. "Sorry." He sat back down, this time facing Jack. His eyes were too shiny and he knew it, but he had to get this the hell off his chest or nightmares wouldn't be a problem, because he just wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. "And I'm still sorry for what happened to you. I know you don't think I should be, but I am. And before you go being all logical on me again, let's just get it out of the way that I'm sorry I was a huge pain in the ass when they drugged me, too." He was almost panting, but he already kind of felt better.

Jack nodded. Nothing he said was going to change how the kid felt about what happened. As Sissy had said when she'd very obligingly come to see him for a few sessions in his room at Medical over the last week, some feelings just had to be felt to be released whether they made sense or not. "And I'm still sorry I clocked you while I was all doped up. And …" Suddenly Jack's own throat had an unexpected lump in it. And he felt hot tears in his eyes. If the kid felt responsible for all this having gone down, he better make some room at the head table of that particular pity party, because Jack was about to join him. "I'm sorry I didn't take Murdoc out when I had the chance. Hell, more than once. It's not a mistake I'll make again."

Mac swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, but his voice was very firm. "Neither will I, Jack. And I might have an idea, but I don't want to talk about it until I'm sure."

Jack managed to smile around his other emotions, both the bitter and the sweet. "Now that that's settled, what're we gonna do about dinner?"

Mac took a breath and anyone could have heard that he'd been pretty close to crying less than two minutes ago, but he said very lightly, "I don't know, but I got a text that we aren't allowed to cook."

Shortly after that Mel and Sarah, with Fred in tow, came over bearing several pizzas. Jack bemoaned the lack of beer and got a short, but effective lecture about not mixing pain meds with any alcohol, but the sting was softened by the Bruce Willis marathon. Mac was happy to have the distraction, but the idea he mentioned to Jack was still bouncing around the back of his always busy mind.


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N Intense torture related stuff in this chapter. Gib - I hope this satisfies._

The room was mostly dark. There was a bare bulb somewhere overhead, but it was maybe a twenty-watt bulb and it was cold, which, since it wasn't a fluorescent light shouldn't have really mattered (Mac had explained why that was once and he'd tried to remember for a while to distract himself, but he'd given up on that probably a day ago), but it just never really seemed to get going. His breath was still sending up plumes of steam, so at least he hadn't lost all that much body heat. He'd been colder before. At least once. Jack shoved the thought away. That was one mission they NEVER spoke about. Even Cairo they at least joked about, but never the island. Never that lab. Ever. This wasn't as bad as that.

Nowhere near as bad, Jack told himself stubbornly as Murdoc … nope, not Murdoc just his douchey mini me who was maybe meaner and definitely wasn't as witty … stepped toward him with another syringe. Jack just closed his eyes. He told himself if they stabbed him enough times it would stop bothering him. Maybe like exposure therapy or something. His mom had done exposure therapy for her fear of snakes when he was a teenager and it had worked. Sort of. At least she started shooting them herself instead of making him or his brother do it. Ow. Goddamn it. So, it was ice again. The stuff that made him want to tear somebody's face off. Mini Douche pulled the hood, which by now just smelled like stale blood and sweat over Jack's head. They'd play a track of Mac's voice sounding coldly rational this time to go with the ice. It had been waves of fire and ice for several days now.

The stuff that burned was almost pleasant, except as soon as he felt himself begin to warm up and relax from the knots his body wound itself into from the beatings and the fury induced by the icy feeling drug, the voices and often sounds would begin … Some of them he couldn't place and some of what they said didn't make much sense … Some of the sounds were those of combat – gunfire and explosions, shouting, screaming, the sounds of death … But the ones that really got to him were the ones that sounded like Mac. Sometimes it was a faraway whispering sound, others closer and more desperate. Weeping, begging, sometimes screaming. Things he knew rationally he had never heard Mac say, things he knew they could not have a recording of since he knew they didn't have Mac in their custody and could not have wrung those sounds or words from him, but knowing didn't change the feeling.

Fists pummeled his torso and he just tightened his stomach muscles doing his best to make as little noise as possible. He knew they were sending videos to Mac to goad him along, probably in hopes that he'd do something stupid. Jack just kept hoping that the kid would show up with a whole Tac team, even if the minute they kicked in the doors Murdoc or his inferior clone put a bullet in his skull, so long as these two got taken out and Mac didn't have to deal with this crap ever again. In fact, when they'd hauled him off the ground … earlier, yesterday, a year ago … with that hook, he would have happily begged someone to put a round into him, even if the thought only crossed his mind for a second. That pain had almost faded into the background now. It was like the nerves in his shoulder hurt so much, they just couldn't hurt anymore. Well, they did. And he knew they did. But his brain couldn't quite wrap itself around it for more than a minute or two at a time, like when he moved or one of these assholes grabbed ahold of it to see if they could make him scream again. They'd managed it a couple of times, but they'd been disappointed more than they hadn't which gave Jack some small satisfaction.

"Oh, Jack, I wish you hadn't let them do this to you, man."

Jack froze. That was Mac's voice and it didn't have the hollow sound of coming through speakers. Still, he fought the urge to say anything. Murdoc was a crafty bastard.

"I never wanted to hurt you Jack. But you let them grab you. And I had to come here. And then they got me. So now I have to."

There was no way that wasn't Mac's voice.

There was also no way it was.

Jack could feel his heart hammering in his chest. The ice drug did that to him every time they gave it to him, which worried him a little, since, he was more than a little aware of the fact that he was no longer a kid himself, but this didn't feel like that stimulate induced gallop. This was just Jack, alone with the thing that he himself didn't fear. He was alone with the thing Mac was afraid of. _How the hell did that happen?_

Jack didn't realize he was holding his breath until the knife slashed through his shirt and drew a long line of blood from high on one side of his chest to the bottom of the other side of his ribs. The hood was ripped from his head and what he had feared was revealed in the feeble yellow light from above. Mac was standing in front of him, looking mildly disappointed and turning a long curved knife in the light, watching Jack's blood drip down it and collect on the tip before dripping off the end. Jack squinted up at him, but still refused to speak.

Mac shook his head. "I guess I always thought your blood should be a different color. You know? Like how it is in comic books with heroes? But then, if you really were one, they never would have gotten the drop on you."

He brought the knife down again, slashing a parallel line to the first one, but deeper. This time, Jack made a small sound. He couldn't help it. Then he just nodded and rasped. "You're right, kid. If them getting me led you here, whatever you do, I earned."

"Oh, for pity's sake Dalton, you suck the fun out of everything," Murdoc's voice came out of Mac's mouth.

Mac started to peel off his face and Jack realized with gut wrenching relief that it was only a mask, that it was Murdoc underneath. He also realized that somehow, he was no longer bound to the chair. While his tormentor was distracted with peeling away his disguise Jack surged to his feet and send the man sprawling, surprised that it was suddenly darker, that he suddenly seemed to be tangled up in something, and that the someone pinned underneath him was not slashing at him with a knife, but was just struggling to free pinned arms and was repeating something muffled but very earnest sounding.

It slowly became clearer. "Jack! Jack! It's me! Wake up!"

Jack realized after a moment that he was on the floor of his bedroom in their temporary apartment, that he was almost definitely tangled up in his sheets and comforter, and the person beneath him (who he was fairly certain he'd just pummeled the hell out of) was his best friend and partner) who had probably been trying to wake him up from one hell of a nightmare, or more accurately to focus him back to reality after a flash back. Fully cognizant of what had happened, Jack rolled painfully off the smaller form under him and onto his back panting. "Mac?" he panted hopefully.

"Yeah, buddy. You alright?" came the tight sounding reply.

"I think so. Another really bad dream is all."

"Hey," Mac gave a little laugh. It was clearly forced, but it didn't sound too bad. "At least you slept a little tonight. That's not much, but it's not nothing."

"Yeah," Jack sighed. Then he remembered he'd kind of attacked the kid. "You okay, bud?"

"I'm fine," Mac said, getting quickly to his feet in the dark, as though to prove it. "Here; let's get you back to bed. It's only about two a.m."

"I'll get the light." Jack reached out to do just that, but Mac got in his way.

"I can see. Just get back into bed. I'll get your blankets." Jack was too tired and too unsettled to argue. Also his ribs and shoulder were still a misery every time he moved and tackling Mac to the floor had the singing a symphony of pain again. Reading his mind, as Mac spread the blankets back out he asked, "You need some pain meds to get through, Jack?"

Jack hesitated, still feeling bad for how he woke up.

"Jack, don't be ridiculous," Mac said almost sternly. "Like I've never leveled you in the middle of a dream before."

Jack half chuckled. He knew it was true. But it didn't actually make him feel a whole lot better. "You're more likely to deck your bedroom furniture and hurt yourself than you are to hurt me, bud. You sure you're alright?"

"Don't change the subject. You want a Vicodin or not?"

"I guess I probably do," Jack admitted.

Mac was gone for a little while, but when he came back he had a couple of pills and an ice cold water bottle that Jack took gratefully. After than was seen to, Mac stood next to Jack's bed for a minute, pensive. Then he just offered what Jack had done for him a hundred times. "You want me to stay?"

"You don't have to do that, kid," Jack said.

"I know I don't have to."

Jack's breath shuddered a little even though he didn't mean to let it. "I … Okay … Yeah."

Mac smiled down at his partner in the dark. Jack could see it and it made him smile back a little, lousy as he felt at the moment. Mac stuck out his hand. "Pillow."

Jack handed him his spare from the other side of the bed.

Mac lay down on the floor with it.

"You could just sleep on the other side here you know. I promise not to awkwardly spoon you in my sleep."

"One, you would definitely awkwardly spoon me in your sleep, because that's just what you do, and two, I'd like to not get the living shit beaten out of me again before morning if you don't mind. Go back to sleep, Jack."

"Fair enough." Jack was quiet for a minute. "Is it cold down there?"

"Go to sleep, Jack."

"Is it?"

"A little."

Jack took the comforter off his bed and dropped it on Mac. "Use that."

"Go to sleep, Jack."

"Use it."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry I beat the living shit out of you."

"Go to sleep, Jack."

"I really am."

"I forgive you."

Finally, Jack rolled onto his good side and closed his eyes again.

0-0-0

Mac was expecting to be woken by the silent alarm on his watch at around seven in the morning. What woke him instead was Jack Dalton's voice almost shouting, "God damn it Mac! Lookit your face!"

Mac reluctantly opened his eyes to Jack standing over him looking horrified. He tipped Jack a half grin. "I was born with it, man. You get used it."

Instead of smiling in return like Mac was hoping for, Jack grimaced. "You just made your lip start bleeding again."

"Again?" Mac disentangled himself from the blankets and got to his feet.

Getting upright caused his head to start aching with a steady sort of thud and he remembered he'd hit the back of it on the floor when Jack had knocked him backwards when he'd first tried to wake him up. He stepped in front of the mirror. Then he just shook his head. It was just a lightly blackened eye and a split lip. Jack had guilt-trip face like he'd run Mac through a meat grinder or something.

Mac washed his face and used a styptic pencil out of the medicine cabinet on his lip, wincing at the sting but wanting the bleeding stopped before he went out and faced Jack again. Once he was satisfied, he headed back out and found Jack in the living room pacing around looking like he'd run over someone's puppy.

Mac stopped him by grabbing his good arm. "Jack, it's okay. I'm fine."

Jack squinted at him. "I dunno, man. I Mel home this morning?"

Mac glanced at his watch, "She's already at work."

"It looks like a clocked you pretty good. Again." His tone was full of self-recrimination. Mac would have to do something about that, but at the moment he hadn't decided just what. "Maybe you should just poke your head into Medical and let somebody take a look at your head."

Mac shrugged. "If it'll make you feel better, Big Guy. Sure. I was gonna bring Melody coffee when I went in to work on my idea this morning anyway."

Jack was thoughtful. "Maybe I'll just tag along to make sure you actually do what you ought to though."

Mac knew Jack was going crazy being off the duty roster. He felt his pain. Being stuck in the office wasn't any fun for him either. Still, he couldn't help a slightly mischievous grin. "You coming with me to Medical this morning is a great plan, Jack. Give me ten minutes or so to get dressed."

Jack nodded and set about getting himself ready, surprised Mac was so agreeable. He thought Mac being so very friendly with a nurse was making his life a whole lot easier. And for a change Mac didn't mind Jack tagging along to check up on him. Which was a novelty all its own. As they were climbing into Mac's Jeep he said so.

Mac eased the jeep out of the parking garage with another grin. "Oh, yeah, I mean, I'm all for making you feel better about a perfectly natural response to a night terror man. Everybody who's been through shit like what you went through is bound to get them, right?"

Jack nodded, now suspicious of Mac's tone.

"I just meant it was a great idea for you to just go with me now because it meant I didn't have to make two trips today because you were supposed to have blood work for your bruised kidneys today anyway. You're such a thoughtful guy."

"Revenge for the split lip?" Jack asked wryly.

Mac patted him on the back. "Li'l bit."


	35. Chapter 35

When they got out of Mac's Jeep, instead of heading toward the stairs to go up the one level to the lobby of the medical wing, Mac locked the car and headed toward the street level exit. Jack stood there for a minute, almost uncertain. Mac turned, "You comin'?"

"Where we goin'?" Jack asked.

"I told you, I want to bring Mel coffee. And probably a bagel. I bet she didn't eat breakfast. She hates eating first thing and she was the early person today." Jack was giving him a sort of speculative look that Mac wasn't quite sure how to read. "I'll buy you one, too. You barely ate anything."

They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence. Then they stepped up to the stand around the corner from their building and Mac ordered for them, first asking what Jack wanted and then just ignoring him and going with his usual, even as Jack protested that he wasn't hungry. Mac paid and they started walking the short distance back to the entrance to the Phoenix offices. Mac was carrying a bag of bagels and a gallon to-go container of coffee, having decided to deliver carbs and caffeine not just to Mel, but her co-workers, too. Despite full hands, he did manage to try to hand Jack a bagel.

"Nah, man, I'm good."

"Jack, seriously. Eat something. You know you shouldn't take your meds on an empty stomach."

"I had a glass of milk," Jack mumbled.

"Jack," Mac said in his best cajoling Jack-dad-voice imitation, "You know you need a real breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," Jack snapped, and he didn't do it intentionally, but it was a pretty fair imitation of Mac at his I-don't-feel-so-hot surliest.

They were passing back by his Jeep, so Mac just stopped and put the food and coffee down on the hood and stood in front of his partner. "Does me not being hungry ever stop you from nagging me into eating when you know it's what I ought to be doing?"

Jack felt himself smile and the involuntary expression almost made him mad. "No," he admitted grudgingly.

"Okay then. So, what's the deal?" Mac asked.

Jack shrugged with his good shoulder. He didn't meet Mac's eye, for a number of reasons, but the biggest one was every time he saw the slight bruising there he started to apologize again and Mac had forbidden any more apologies on the ride over. Strictly forbidden. In perpetuity. Nothing that happened during a flash back, or night terror, or even bad dream could ever be apologized for by either of them ever again. Past, present, or future. Period. Full stop. "Mmmm."

"Is this you still feeling guilty?" Mac tried to catch his eye and was partially successful. "Because I'm really okay. I knew what I was getting into getting that close when you were in the thick of it like that. Risk was worth taking to wake you up. You'd have done the same for me." He nodded to reinforce his point and Jack had to bob his head in agreement. That was true; he couldn't deny it. Mac tipped a sideways smile and shook his head. "And I'll let whoever's in there shine a light in my eyes or whatever. Even … Ugh, god damnit … even if it's Foster. Okay? Will that get you to stop looking like the kid who nobody wanted on their team in gym class? Which was always me, by the way."

Jack felt himself start to smile. "You're a real brat, you know it? Cheerin' me up against my will."

"Guilty." Mac moved to pick up the food and coffee and saw Jack shift uncomfortably again. "Okay, so this is also you just dreading going into Medical." Mac wasn't asking. Again, Jack gave a one shouldered shrug, although this one was more acknowledgement than deferring an answer. "I'm sorry I gave you a hard time earlier, Jack. On your best day, you don't … And after Russia ..." He trailed off. After a minute, Mac squinted. "Sometimes I'm kind of an asshole."

"Like I've never just hassled you about gettin' squeamish around medical stuff … And you at least have a valid reason …"

"So do you." Mac's voice was almost sharp. "It's not a competition Jack. Baggage is baggage. And we've all got to carry our own. Just maybe we ought to do a better job lightening the load for each other from here on out instead of giving each other shit and pretending that helps, huh? We're not in the damned Army anymore."

Jack nodded, his grin back in place, at least partially. That was kind of a habit from back then for sure. "We can try, right?"

Finally, Mac picked things back up again. "C'mon, Jack. Let's go."

Jack sighed. "Okay."

Mac elbowed him gently. "Hey, I might have been being a jerk out loud, but I texted and made sure Melody is taking care of you this morning."

Jack elbowed him back. That made him feel quite a bit better, although he remembered a time not all that long ago when it would not have. In retrospect, he had to admit they'd probably earned a lot of her formerly more stern demeanor. "'Course you did."

Unfortunately, Jack's improved mood didn't last long. When they got to Medical, Mac had barely sat down the bagels and coffee when they learned that Mel was assisting in an emergency surgery of some sort and the newest member of the staff, Theresa, was covering the floor for the morning. Jack took an involuntary step back from the desk when she greeted him. Mac noted that Mel had clearly been working on the new nurse's bedside manner because she gave Jack a much more sympathetic look than he'd seen her use the few times he'd been down here previously. Or maybe Jack just wormed his way into her affections the week he'd been stuck here. He was awfully charming with all the nurses, hell, even Brian, so it wasn't just his natural inclination to flirt. Where Mac tended to get surly and seemed to be trying to get himself thrown out of Medical when confined there, Jack usually took the 'more flies with honey' approach. Jack shifted from one foot to the other. "I suppose if Mel's busy, you get to poke holes in me this morning?"

"Oh, no, Agent Dalton," she shook her head. She put a cup with a single pill in it on the counter. "The doctor left this for you if you want it. It's for anxiety. And Nurse Sullivan said to tell you to stop being stubborn and please take it and she'll come find you when she finishes this morning, if that's alright."

Jack frowned, indecisive.

"Go on, Jack. I'm driving anyway," Mac said quietly.

"You know I hate that stuff," he grumbled.

"I know, but … Jack," Mac dropped his voice, hoping Theresa wouldn't hear him, "You're shaking a little."

Jack grumbled something under his breath that even Mac didn't here, but he took the pill and swallowed it. "I guess I'll be up in Mac's office," he said. The he looked pointedly at his partner.

"Um, yeah, so, I was supposed to let somebody look at …"

Theresa smiled at him, too. "We're a bit busy this morning Agent MacGyver. Dr. Foster is on duty," Jack almost laughed at the expression Mac pulled and then immediately wiped off his face, but then Theresa went on, "so, he asked if I'd just have a quick look and triage for him. You may not need to see him at all. If you'll just come on back for a minute." She waved him toward the door just past the desk.

"Okay," Mac said agreeably.

"I'll wait here, bud," Jack said. Mac just waved his agreement.

He and Theresa were back less than five minutes later. Mac was smiling in a very pleased with himself sort of way.

"Like I said, I don't see any reason for concern, but if anything comes up, you certainly know where we are," she chuckled. Mac shook his head. Even the new staff knew their reputation. Hell. "Do you need a checklist of concussion symptoms?" Theresa asked as he rejoined Jack on, to his way of thinking, the right side of that desk.

He shook his head. "No, I'm pretty familiar."

They headed for the elevators. "That went okay," Jack observed.

Mac grinned. "Yeah, I think Mel greased the wheels for us a little bit, honestly."

As the doors slid closed, Jack smiled at his partner. "You shoulda started datin' a nurse a long time ago, bud."

Mac shook his head. "It's not because we're … She's part of the team. Steve does stuff like that all the time."

"Yeah, but … You don't grin like a fool when he does it."

"Shut up, Jack."

0-0-0

Mac looked up from his work every once in a while at Jack stretched out on the short sofa in the corner of his office away from the windows. At first, whatever the pill had been didn't seem to be affecting him much. He was typical Jack stuck at the office while Mac did nerd things on his computer, which meant he played some game on his phone and sighed dramatically from time to time. After an hour or so, Mac finally convinced Jack that food was a good idea and he ate a bagel. Then, he got up and wandered down the hall and found himself a donut. Mac just grinned into his coffee. Another half hour passed and Jack got chatty, starting with how much he liked seeing Mac and Mel together and how happy he was that Mac seemed finally happy again for the first time since before Lake Como, on to how he hoped things might work out with Sarah, but he was worried they wouldn't because all they'd ever known was action and adventure and not changing diapers and putting the dishes away, and then he spoke about his dim memories of their exodus from Russia, finally confessing his nightmare in fits and starts. Mac stopped him when he started trying to apologize for tackling him again. He sat down next to him for a little while.

"It happens, Jack. We know this. Big upside for us, is the women in our lives know it and know about why, too. No secrets, no lies. We can deal with it and we know it'll get better. In time. Cut yourself some slack. Aren't you supposed to be relaxing or something? And letting me work?"

Another forty minutes passed and Jack dozed off on the sofa, snoring softly. Mac was starting to think about wrapping up his own work for the day. Maybe he'd go see what was up with Beth and Boze down in the lab with what he'd asked them to cook up. That would give him something to ruminate on over the weekend and by the time he finished with that hopefully Medical would be done with Jack and they could get out of here for the day, maybe grab a late lunch, and he could clean the apartment a little and cook something resembling real food before they wound up with the inevitable round of company tonight.

He'd never had such a social life as that afforded by living in the Phoenix apartment building. He would have thought he'd hate it, but since it was usually Mel, or Sarah and Fred, or Beth and Boze, or even some combination of all of the above, occasionally including Todd, or even Steve and his wife who didn't live all that far away, it was actually kind of nice. Tonight it would just be Mel and Sarah though, he thought. He glanced up and Mel was standing in the doorway wrinkling her nose and grinning at him.

"Nice shiner. Get in a fight on the way to school, kid?"

"Nah, my big brother is a jerk sometimes though," he laughed.

She looked at the impossible position Jack was tangled in on the sofa. "I bet that guy can sleep anywhere," she observed with a certain amount of wonder.

"Soldiers." Mac shrugged. "I've slept during a live fire exercise on a range before. Shit, I've slept during shelling in a war zone before."

She gave him a long look. "Explains why your sleep kind of sucks I guess."

He just shrugged again. Mel crossed to Jack, carrying the bag she'd brought up from Medical. She knelt down next to him and put a hand on his arm. "Hey, Jack. Jack. Jack Wyatt Dalton!"

"Hmmm," he said sleepily. "You need me downstairs?"

She shook her head. "I came to you. No need to wind yourself up today, Jack. Just uncross your arms and I'll be out of your hair in less than five minutes."

Jack did, and she smiled when he was only slightly reluctant. Then, Jack decided there was no good reason to make himself suffer and he closed his eyes and sank back into the cushions. Mac almost laughed when he realized that Jack was snoring again by the time Mel was changing vials. "What the hell was in that pill you guys left for him? Elephant tranquilizer?"

Mel flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Just a really light anti-anxiety med. We figured after Russia, his usual nerves would be a lot worse and … No reason for him to feel like that. But if he's having a hard time sleeping, I'm not surprised it hit him hard."

When she finished what she was doing, put everything away to deliver downstairs, peeled off her gloves and tossed them in the trash, she went over behind Mac's desk and leaned against it, looking down at him. Mac leaned back in his chair so he could smile up at her, and they laughed together as Jack snorted a ridiculous snore from the couch. Mel shook her head. "He got you pretty good, huh? Your lip looks like it hurts."

Mac shrugged. "It's alright. One time I loosened one of his teeth the same way. We hadn't even known each other for very long, so I knew he was really a good guy when he was still speaking to me after he had to go on sick call and see the dumbass second lieutenant who passed for the dentist on base."

She nodded. "So … hurt, not injured?" She'd heard Mac use the line on Jack in Medical long before she became friends with them. In fact, she thought he might have used it on her once or twice as his way of telling her to leave him the hell alone before.

He nodded. "Yeah. No concussion. I let your newbie check. She's coming along nicely by the way. She didn't even make me want to flake out and run once."

"Not even once?"

"Okay, maybe for like a second, but I think that was just environmental," he laughed.

"So, he only punched you? Are you sure you aren't hurt otherwise? You've been knocked around an awful lot lately." Mac shook his head. That wasn't girlfriend tone, that was medic fishing for more information from someone she doesn't think is being honest tone. He didn't think she even knew she was doing it either. She was actually a pretty good interrogator, medically speaking. He could spin that though, get this conversation back on track.

He shrugged. "I could probably be convinced to let _you_ look …"

"Oh really?" She gave a mischievous raise of her eyebrows and her probing tone fell away immediately. "I'm being invited for a closer inspection of your person for further injury? Hmmm. How close?"

He smiled. "What do you suppose is necessary?"

"I would say very. Do you think we could manage that?"

This time his eyebrows went up. "If you play your cards right."

"Oh, I like cards."


	36. Chapter 36

_A/N -Hey guys, a couple people have wondered how Mel and Mac might weather some of the more complicated aspects of their relationship, especially when Mac reverts to type about all things medical. I think our boy has come a long way, but then again I say that about myself, and it took me tearing cartilage in my chest and not being able to roll over without wanting to scream to go to the doctor for the cough I've had for three weeks, so maybe we are who we are. Anyhow, I've played with that a little here. ~ J_

Mel was stretched out on the couch watching Mac and Fred with amusement. While Jack and Sarah had dessert in the small kitchen, Mac had offered to occupy Fred so they could enjoy some grown-up time. What Mel discovered was that he wanted to test out the contraption he'd built as baby entertainment and needed Fred to do so. In some ways, it resembled other floor toys she had seen. Mel had had quite a number of nieces and nephews back east so she had at least shopped her way through Babies R Us a few times, even if she hadn't done so very thoughtfully. In other ways, she thought this toy was far more clever. It was all the red, black, and white that research showed small babies could most easily see, but instead of simplistic little rattles or mirrors all of the toys suspended from the arch over the soft mat Fred was currently lying on interacted with each other; they all produced some sort of cause and effect result. If you pulled the zebra the little bear moved up; if you squeezed the skunk, the squirrel made noise. Fred was enthralled. Off to the sides were mirrors and more little items to engage little hands and encourage a child to try to roll over. Mac was sitting cross legged on the floor next to her, grinning like an eight-year-old.

He glanced up at Mel. "I really think she likes it."

Mel nodded with a smile. "She certainly does. At first, I thought it was too complicated for a baby, but it doesn't seem to be slowing her down any."

Mac reached out and untangled Fred's fingers from the little ribbon headband she was wearing on her mostly bald head so she could grab the zebra she was after again. "We're born with most of our basic wiring available to us," he said. "One of the problems I see with how kids are taught is we feel like we have to load them down with all kinds of information, all kind of input, before we teach them critical thinking. That's crazy. If all we have is information we might as well be encyclopedias in the hands of someone who doesn't know how to read. If we teach the brain to see relationships, to make decisions, then the information becomes a tool, the way it should be. I think critical thinking starts a lot younger than people give it credit. I know mine did."

Mel was nodding slowly. Fred clearly already had worked out some of the cause and effect stuff on this little contraption. When she squeezed the skunk, she was looking at the squirrel, anticipating the sound and she was only a couple of months old. And she liked the mirrors, because she was already trying to roll onto her side. "I think you may be on to something," Mel replied. "Think maybe you've come up with a new think tank side project?"

Mac nodded. "Maybe; yeah."

He was half wondering to himself if Mel or Jack would think it was rude if he worked in his notebook while they all watched the new Avengers movie later. They'd rented it for after Sarah and Fred went home because Jack wanted to get good and tired out before he went to bed; Mel wound up invited to come watch after revealing her Captain America ankle tattoo to Jack when he showed off the Iron Man one he'd gotten over a bullet scar on his shoulder. Sarah called from the kitchen, "Hey, Mac, can I steal my kid back so I can go put her to bed or are you still doing market research?"

"Be right there, Sarah!" he called. He shifted position and scooped up a protesting Fred. As he got to his feet, he gasped in obvious pain. "Aaahhh. Shit," he mumbled, shifting Fred a little and schooling his expression back to pleasant and smooth.

Mel got to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

He turned and quickly headed into the kitchen with Fred. Instead of following them, Mel picked up little odds and ends around the living room. A couple of minutes later, Sarah, carrying a baby seat with Fred in tow, stuck her head in, "'Night, Mel. Take care of our boys."

Mel smiled, "I'll try. But you know how they are."

Mac came back in just as Sarah left, knelt stiffly down on the floor, and started folding up the baby toy prototype. He didn't look up. "I think Jack's already started the popcorn. You could put the DVD in and cue up the movie if you want."

She just stood there for a minute, deciding what to do. Nope. She just couldn't let it slide. If he hurt enough to swear, a guy who could look you square in the eye while you were picking glass out of his hands and tell you he was okay, then it would be irresponsible not to at least ask again. "You sure you're alright?"

From the side, she could still see the deep roll of his eyes. "I told you I'm fine," he said; he was just a little terse. He took a breath. "Really," he softened his tone a little.

He got to his feet again and she heard the catch in his breath distinctly again. "Mac, don't be ridiculous. What's wrong?"

He turned and faced her, and his expression was almost neutral, but he couldn't keep the flash of annoyance out of his eyes. "Don't do that."

She took a step toward him. "Do what?"

"Use your nurse tone on me in my own living room." Now the flash was in his voice, too.

Thinking maybe a joke would lighten things back up, she said, "You _said_ I could convince you to let me take a look."

He narrowed his eyes in response, but tried joking back to close the subject. "Yeah, well … We didn't play cards."

"Mac," she began again, not willing to let it close.

He cut her off. "I said I'm fine." Her eyes widened at his sharp tone, but he went on, his voice clipped, and bordering on angry. "I'm just going to go about my business. You? Stay for the movie. Go home. Eat popcorn. Call for take-out. Do whatever you want tonight. Except forget that I'm not your patient right now."

"I …" She'd almost thought of something to say when Jack came in with a large metal bowl full of popcorn.

"Hey! Avengers assemble!" Jack called out. "You guys ready to watch this flick or what?"

He flopped onto their couch, immediately putting his feet up onto the coffee table and putting the popcorn down on the middle cushion.

Mac wasn't really looking at either one of them. "Um … actually … Why don't you guys go ahead without me?" He hurried on before Jack could ask questions. "I didn't really sleep all that well last night. I'm kind of beat. G'night, you two."

Before they could even respond, Mac had headed down the hall, turned into his bedroom, and softly closed his door. Mel sat down next to Jack with a sigh puffed out through her cheeks. Jack put down the remote.

"A'ight. What's goin' on?"

She sighed again, but looked at him, her grey eyes somewhere between sad and a little annoyed. "I screwed up, Big Brother."

"How so?"

Mel briefly explained what happened. Jack's face got what she thought of as his worry line, or more accurately, his Mac-line, across the forehead. "I knew I hurt him more than he was saying." He looked in her eyes again. "It was a really bad dream. I woke up on top of him, kind of had him pinned under all the blankets, sort of must have slammed him into the floor. I knew him admitting to hitting his head was too damned easy."

She bit her lip. "Yeah. But he's like that. And we both know it. I guess that's not the point though. I crossed a line."

"Didja, now?" Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She swallowed hard. "Mac certainly seems to think so. And he's right, I guess. I'm here tonight, just hanging out and …"

"So, you aren't supposed to take care of the people you hold near and dear the best way you know how just because you're not at work?"

"I …"

"He didn't forget his training getting me out of Russia, even though to here him tell it I was a giant angry toddler. And, I'll tell ya, I don't suddenly forget all that advanced first aid and field medicine I got trained in just 'cause he don't like it and just 'cause I'm his best friend when he need me, either. The training don't go away because I love the stubborn dumbass. Kinda the opposite. And if I didn't have that training, I'd still try to take care of the fool when he was hurt or sick for the same reason."

She gave him a small smile. "That's fine for you, I suppose. You've known him for, what did you say at Christmas, seven or eight years?" Jack nodded. "I've only known you guys for a couple of years … and let's face it, he's only been able to stand the sight of me for about six months … and … I should probably just go home."

Jack nodded and shook his head, sort of at the same time, all while giving her a knowing sort of smirk. "Yeah, you could. You could do that. But, I'll warn you now, if you do … He's always going to expect you to back off. Whether it's as his girlfriend …" he paused at the slight widening of her eyes. "Or whatever it is you are to each other. Or when I drag his grumpy ass into Medical and you're his nurse, or God forbid, when we're in the field and you're the medic on the spot. We know how that ends, right?"

She smirked back. "I don't back down on my own turf, Jack Dalton."

"Don't I know it?" he grinned. "So, you decide how you wanna handle it. I'm not here to tell you what to do. Just, I know Mac. If I were you, I'd at least go try and talk to him. I'll hold the movie for a few … If you want?"

She thought about it for a minute. Then she nodded, puffing out a long breath. "You're right. But I think I might be able to handle it without really pissing him off."

0-0-0

When there was a tap on his door, he was expecting Jack, so he just called, "Come in," not even looking up from the miniature robot he was building on the chest at the foot of his bed.

She sat down on the edge of his bed, facing his back. "Hey."

He glanced back over his shoulder, and his face immediately colored. "Hey."

"I didn't mean to drive you out of your own living room, Mac."

"You didn't," he mumbled.

"Mmmm. Jack's holding the movie. He said he didn't think you really seemed all that tired, but he's still hurting some, so I said I'd come ask you if you'd changed your mind."

Mac shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." He half turned. He had been sitting here feeling bad for snapping at her, but also feeling pretty justified in what he'd said. Now, he mostly felt confused . He didn't like it one bit.

Mel shifted and pulled out a deck of cards. She started shuffling. He smirked and shook his head, but he turned the rest of the way and criss-crossed his legs, leaning his elbows on them. "So, you want to play cards, after all. Okay. I accept. What's the game?"

"I thought we'd make it easy. Let's just play War. Sound good?"

"Sure. But I get to deal. Jack has soured me on other people dealing. When there's a bet at stake, he cheats."

"You don't trust me?" She feigned offense.

"At the moment, I'm kind of irritated with you, which feels like the same thing," he said honestly and he did bite his lip when he saw the slight hurt in her eyes, but he couldn't feel bad about being honest. He'd promised himself not all that long ago, really, that he would always both expect and give a potential partner honesty, even if it was painful. Nikki had taught him too much about the pain of deception.

"Okay," she agreed quietly, handing him the cards.

Mac began shuffling them expertly and Mel busied herself looking around his room, studying his developing ecosystem in a tank that the Bozer's had gotten him for Christmas that he'd had moved to their temporary apartment so someone else didn't have to keep going over and taking care of it. "I don't think I've told you much about my family," she said.

"Not much, I guess," Mac agreed, starting to divide the deck.

"I'm the only girl in a family of seven kids."

"Wow. Big family."

"Yeah. Irish Catholic. New York. Older parents."

He was just about done dealing their twenty-six cards each.

"Where in New York?" Mac asked, distracted from his earlier irritation with her by his simple desire to know her better.

"Park Slope. It's in Manhattan. Not the swanky part, but not the crappy part either. Just kind of in the middle. Like me. I was the girl in the middle. Three boys on either side. And they were all really physical guys."

"Yeah?" The game play was going back and forth smoothly with a fairly even split between what he took and what Mel took.

"Hockey, football, baseball, track and field. Fighting in the schoolyard. You name it."

"Did you do any of that stuff?"

She shrugged. "I played some field hockey. I wasn't that into it. I was a science nerd."

He nodded. "Yeah, I ran track and cross country, but I never really gave a damn about it."

She smiled her understanding. "War," she said. The exchange was over fairly quickly and she won the first small battle.

"Damn it," he grumbled, but he was smiling now.

"So, when I tell you I've been patching people up since long before that pinning ceremony that officially made me a nurse, you have to know that it goes back to my old neighborhood and my crazy brothers and their friends. To before I really remember it starting."

He frowned at her. "So?"

She bit her lip, thinking about it. "I've just always kind of been a care giver. Someone fell down on the playground, I'd be there before the teacher, picking them up, dusting them off … You know? I bet it was like that for you, too." He frowned like he wasn't sure what she meant. "Like, weren't you always building things, or taking things apart and putting them together in new ways? Stuff like that?"

He snickered a little. "Yeah, I drove everybody crazy. Even Boze used to yell at me sometimes." He met her eyes. "Can't change who you are I guess."

"No, you can't. So, I know I'm gonna piss you off sometimes. Just, I hope you know I don't mean it … like work all the time. I … it's …"

"It's what?"

Her face had gotten very red for some reason.

"It's how I love," she said very bluntly.

He felt his face get a little red, too.

"Oh."

"War."

"Huh?"

"War."

They looked at each other and laughed. They went back and forth for a minute. Finally, he tossed his cards all down on the pile. "I think you win."

"Really?" she asked, not quite believing her ears.

"Yeah," he nodded. He scooped up the cards and had them neatly put back into a deck in a few seconds and set them on the nightstand. "Look, I don't want Jack to feel any worse than he already does, but he nailed me in the side where I'm still healing pretty hard a couple of times last night. It wasn't even bothering me that much until I picked up Fred." She was studying his face like it was a work of art now. "It's really okay ... And I don't know why I didn't just tell you that in the living room."

"Because you 'get funny about that stuff sometimes'. That's what Jack says."

"Yeah, I do, I guess. I'd love to tell you that'll change, but it probably won't at this point in my life. And I guess you know why." He looked away, then back again.

"I do." She reached out and brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips. "I think I'd really like to kiss you right now, but …"

He shook his head, "Please don't. My lip is throbbing," he admitted.

"What about your cheek?"

"My cheek feels fine," he smiled.

She leaned forward and kissed him gently on his cheek, under his black eye. Then she bit her lip. "Okay, now I might make you mad again, but hear me out." He narrowed his eyes again, but gave a nod. "I'm not trying to be _your_ nurse, I promise. But I am _a_ nurse. And you _were_ hurt pretty badly in Russia."

"So?" he asked, already sounding a little cantankerous again.

"It would make me feel a lot better, sleep a lot better, if you let me take a look. You did say I won at cards," she hurried to add.

"So, this is about making _you_ feel better now?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted. "But it's also about me wanting you to genuinely not be hurt and taking care of it entirely for yourself."

"What if I say no? Are you still going to stay and watch the movie?"

"Probably," she grinned at him.

"Just to show me what a spoiled brat I was being before."

"Basically."

"Fine; Jesus," he huffed.

0-0-0

When they joined Jack in the living room a few minutes later, Jack just raised his eyebrows at both of them. "Of course, you ate all the popcorn," Mac groused.

"I can make some more," Jack offered. "It's early yet."

"I'm just kidding, Jack. You're still supposed to be resting, man. If we're hungry later …"

"I'll go make some for everybody," Mel interrupted. She arranged a Bunch of pillows and Mac propped himself up against them, throwing her a smile.

He hesitated. "Hey, Mel, while you're in the kitchen, would you get me a couple of Advil, please?"

"Ice pack, too?" she asked, leaving the strong suggestion out of her tone.

He glanced at Jack and then back at Mel. "Do you really think I need …" he trailed off at her expression. "Yes, please."

Already knowing the answer, Jack asked, "What's that all about?"

Mac chewed his lip for a minute. "I guess I maybe hit the floor a little harder than I thought last night. I'm a little bruised is all," he hurried to assure Jack, who hadn't quite been able to keep the guilt from his face like he'd sworn to himself he would. "Mel said ice would probably help. She's right, of course. I just hadn't thought of it."

More accurately, he'd been too stubborn to admit the bruising to begin with, but that was neither here nor there, Jack thought. The point was they'd found a way to both be themselves and let the other stay themselves and they were still speaking. That wasn't much, but it wasn't nothing either.

Jack hit play. "Better hurry up, Melody! You're gonna miss the opening chase scene!"

Mac just shook his head.


	37. Chapter 37

_A/N - So, here's some Jammy Jack and a little more h/c for those who asked for it._

Mac's sleep had been thin since going to bed anyway. He woke for about the tenth time when he rolled over onto his tenderized side again. He grumbled to himself as he finally conceded that Mel had probably been right and maybe, just maybe, one of his prescription pain pills, reserved for emergencies, might have been in order before bed. He picked up his phone off its charging station on his nightstand and checked the time. It was only 2 a.m. He had no obligation to be up at any particular time and it's not like they were going to get called in to Phoenix with Jack officially out of commission pending medical clearance anyway.

He supposed he could take a pill. He would finish his night on the sofa with the television on for company since, while the relief might improve the quality of his sleep pain-wise, those types of meds often let through the sorts of dreams that were less restful. The television had a way of orienting him more quickly upon waking than even the light in the bedroom. And hey, maybe he'd get lucky and just sleep through. Stranger things had happened. And even though he'd said it as part of a less than truthful statement earlier, Mac hadn't really been lying when he told Mel and Jack he was beat.

Mac groaned as he sat up and switched on his light, pulling up his t-shirt to take another look at his side. Damn, those were pretty colors, as Melody had so wryly put it earlier. Jack really had laid into him pretty hard, or maybe he'd landed on something when they hit the floor. He'd been so concerned about waking Jack and settling him down at the time, he really couldn't say. Knowing it was stupid, but quite unable to help himself, he poked at the center of one of the bruises. "Ow," he said to himself, finally making the decision to go ahead and take a pill and catch some sleep out on the couch. He shuffled into their shared bathroom for the medicine cabinet. He missed his house. He missed the space. The private bathrooms. The pool for blowing off steam. He missed the deck for pacing on when he couldn't sleep. He missed not having to drive for forty minutes to take a decent trail run; not that he could realistically do that with the shape his side was in anyway. But that wasn't the damned point. No wonder he'd gotten grouchy with Mel tonight, he thought to himself, not quite willing to recognize that he was making an excuse for a behavior that everyone else recognized as a habit rather than an anomaly, even Mel.

He was tired of his life being turned upside down by Murdoc, by the Organization. Hell, sometimes he was tired of Phoenix turning his life upside down. He shook his head. He didn't mean that. He loved his job, he was good at his job. It was too important to think like that, anyway. He'd just opened the bottle containing the few stronger pain pills he kept around when there was a crash from Jack's room and a shout of pure distress. Mac dropped the bottle and skidded out of the bathroom, almost wiping out on the slick linoleum floors in his socks.

It only took Mac a few second to get to Jack's room, but he found his partner already sitting on the floor, wide awake, knees up, elbows resting on them, with his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Mac approached with slow carefulness. "Hey, Big Guy," he said softly.

Jack didn't raise his head, just pressed the heels of his hands harder into his eyes. "Hey, kid. I wake you up?"

"No, man, I was up," he said, and Jack could hear that it was an honest answer. Only his own distress kept him from following up on why that might have been true. Even though it was black, Mac could see that Jack's t-shirt was soaked. "Where were you this time, buddy?" he asked gently.

"Belarus," he answered, his voice husky. "Go back to bed, Mac. You lost enough sleep over me last night."

Mac sat down on the floor next to him, giving him a little space, but close enough that Jack would know he was there. "Yeah, like that'll happen." He waited for a minute. At least Jack's breathing was becoming a little less ragged. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing, bud, I'll be fi …" Jack choked back a sob and then just held his breath for a minute.

Mac draped an arm around his shoulders. He spoke with the gently teasing tone Jack often used with him, bringing up the one name that always brought Jack back to himself, the one person who would understand Belarus. "When Fred holds her breath when she's crying, Sarah blows on her face. I could go get Sarah to blow on your face."

Jack gave him a shove. "You shit." But he cracked a half smile and he'd stopped holding his head. "I dreamt I didn't make it back to say goodbye to my dad. Then it all changed and I didn't make it back at all. I … Sleep's been kind of a horror show since we got home this time, kid."

"Can't imagine why, Jack," Mac said with obvious sarcasm.

Jack just puffed out a long ragged breath in reply.

"Seriously though, Jack. Belarus. Do you think seeing Sarah might help?"

"You aren't gonna go wake up that poor woman in the middle of the night just because I'm havin' a bad time," he grumped.

Mac put his arm around Jack's unpleasantly sweaty shoulders again. "For one thing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind; she's Sarah. And, I know it was a baby conversation she and Mel were having so you were only half listening, but she still gets up at two to feed Fred every morning. I'm pretty sure she's up. You want me to text her and see? I could go up and put Fred back down for her and sit until she comes back."

Mac found himself suddenly crushed in a classic Jack Dalton bear hug. He managed not to groan when it hurt his side. Instead he just hugged Jack back. "I take it that's a yes?"

"You're a better friend, a better kid than I ever deserved, ya know it?"

"I am quality offspring and friend material as we've previously established," he said very formally. Jack chucked into his shoulder before releasing him. Mac got to his feet to go grab his phone, certain Sarah would be both awake and amenable to helping a friend. "You okay till she gets here?"

Jack looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red, but he nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

Mac nodded. "It's what we do, Jack."

0-0-0

Sarah found Jack where she had almost expected to find him. Where she always found him, if things were really mentally not okay. Sitting in the bathtub, in the dark, hugging his knees. She could see him well enough from the light in their hallway.

She put the seat and then the lid down on the toilet and sat down. She shook her head smiling. Boys. Maybe one of them would eventually fall in in the middle of the night and break that habit. The thought made her snicker. He looked up. She'd never been a 'pink' sort of person, but the soft smoky sort of pink bathrobe she was wearing was very pretty on her, Jack thought. She was holding an open bottle of something. "You still taking pain meds for your shoulder?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "Prob'ly should be, but the dreams are worse if I do."

She nodded. She didn't often dream badly, but she sometimes had flashbacks of really bad times when she was awake. Sense memory was the worst for her. She'd had a moment in the middle of her labor for Fred, and it wasn't even the pain, not really, it was more the smell of some disinfectant and she'd flashed back to a time when Jack had had to cut a bullet out of her side in the field; cut it out and cauterize it. She'd broken his nose. She'd nearly done the same to the nurse in the delivery suite. She apologized afterward, of course, but the nurse had given her a knowing sort of look and told her she'd served in Afghanistan for a while. Must be something around the eyes, Sarah thought. She passed Jack the bottle. "I know all the shrinks say this is the worst idea, but it's kind of a tradition with us."

He took it and opened it. He took a long pull out of the bottle and then sputtered a little. "Shit. Jim Beam, huh? Since when do you drink cheap whiskey?"

She laughed and sat down on the floor next to the tub facing him. "I love that to you, Jim Beam is the cheap stuff ya big snob. Somebody gave it to me as a housewarming gift so it was just in my cupboard. I had it out tonight anyway so it was handy when Mac came up."

"I thought you couldn't drink 'cause you're breastfeeding, Sarah." Jack was now looking at Sarah, a little distracted from his own distress.

"Well, I had one after I went home and put her down," she admitted. "Jeff called tonight." Her tone was flat. Jack let go of his legs and reached out of the tub. She took his hand without even thinking. "He's suing for custody."

"That …"

"Bastard. Yeah. It won't happen. I've got a stable office job, nice safe place to live, wonderful network of friends at the 'think tank' where I'm an administrator. Jeff works for the CIA on record and moves all over hell and gone. And he's never even met her. Not once. My lawyer said it's frivolous. But I'm still furious."

"He knows they'd never find the body, right?" Jack drawled, and even in the dark she could see the sparkle back in his eyes already. It had been the right thing to tell him. Give Jack Dalton one of his own to focus on and all the bad stuff from the past just fell away in a heartbeat.

"I don't need you to disappear my ex for me, Jack."

"Oh, I meant you, but, ya know I'm always happy to help, there, Ms. Adler." He squeezed her hand.

Her voice full of Texas, just the way he most loved it, she squeezed back, "And I appreciatecha." She got to her feet, gently tugging his hand. "C'mon, Dalton, let's get you back to bed. You don't seem as badly off as I expected to find you when I saw poor Mac's face at my door."

Jack's breath hissed as he got to his feet.

"Hurt your shoulder?" she asked, stepping closer, concerned.

"Nah, just got old man's knees," he chuckled, setting the bottle aside on the bathroom vanity.

"Old man's knees you haven't exactly treated very gently for the last five decades."

"Yeah, keep remindin' me how old I am, see how many honest candles make it on your next birthday cake, Sarah."

She laughed and put her arm around his waist. She found his t-shirt damp. Poor guy must've had one hell of a nightmare to be that sweaty, she thought. "I'm still practically a girl, Dalton. You be just as honest as you want," she teased lightly, leading him back toward his bedroom.

He sat down on his bed a little reluctantly. She sat next to him. He cleared his throat. "I … um … I think I might just be up for the day, Sarah. I appreciate you comin' down to make sure I'm okay though. Just seein' you helped. It really did."

She pushed him gently over onto his pillow and then lay down next to him, resting her head on his good shoulder, draping her arm over his hips. "You'll get back to sleep, Jack. You need the rest."

"I … you don't have to stay here, Sarah. Fred …"

"Is with Mac, who is probably better with babies than I am, although how that happened is still a mystery to me. They were both half asleep in the rocking chair in the bedroom before I even left the room. Just close your eyes, Jack. You know those dreams don't dare come anywhere near you when I'm around. They never have."

He sighed deeply. That was true. When he talked about her being 'the one', that was one of the things he meant. He started feeling kind of drowsy after a few minutes. He thought the warmth of the whiskey probably had a little bit to do with it, but the warmth of the woman at his side had a hell of a lot more to contribute. He sighed again. She reached up and started tracing the backs of her knuckles over the stubble on his jaw. Sometimes that was sexy as hell. Other times it worked better than a sleeping pill at knocking him out. This was one of the latter times. He was snoring softly in a few minutes. She knew she could go. Instead, she curled into his side, careful of his healing body, and just breathed him in. There was nothing quite like Jack Dalton. Even sweaty and miserable. The mingled scent of him and clean sheets was the most welcome, peaceful thing she could think of.

When she opened her eyes again there was light filtering through the curtains; she was on her side being spooned by Jack, his arm snugged around her and his chin resting on her head. Mac was standing next to the bed, bouncing a quietly mewling Fred in his arms. She was chewing his t-shirt and Sarah almost laughed when she saw how much drool was spread over one side of it. She blinked a few times before she carefully extracted herself from the sleeping Jack's embrace and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Mac answered, almost as an apology. "I think she's hungry."

Sarah smiled, standing up and reaching out for her daughter. "I bet she is. She has her mama's appetite! And she usually eats around six." The minute Fred got a whiff of her mother she started getting noisier, so Sarah headed out of the room so as not to wake Jack.

Mac followed them. "I tried to give her a bottle. But … Um … I couldn't figure out how to … Um … those bottles don't look like … She wouldn't take it," he finished awkwardly.

Sarah laughed. "They're supposed to be better for breastfeeding babies. Less confusion or some such." She laughed again at his expression. "Have you ever given a baby any kind of bottle before?"

He gave a slightly embarrassed little laugh. "No, I actually haven't. But, I've seen it done plenty of times. I didn't think it would be all that difficult."

She had her hand on the doorknob to leave. "I'm gonna take her home now and give her some of the good stuff. But, if you boys are around later, I'll come by and give you a Fred feedin' lesson. If you want."

He grinned. "Sure."

"Good. Because I was going to ask you if you'd babysit for me some night. I do believe I'd like to take that handsome roommate of yours out to dinner when he's feelin' a little better."

Mac tilted his head to one side. "Feeling better?"

"You might want to have Mel look in on him today. I think he might be running a fever again." Mac's eyes widened. "Not a bad one. But better safe than sorry."

Fred started to fuss in earnest and Sarah closed the door, leaving Mac to go look in on Jack, and text Mel to find out what her day looked like.


	38. Chapter 38

_A/N I am not having my best week ever, so I may have to whump these guys some more. I just don't know. But here's where we are at the moment. I got clocked with a 2x4 at work today. It's a long story. So if this doesn't make sense, I claim the Jack Dalton Defense. I got hit in the head. A lot. ~ J_

"I'm sorry, Jack," Mac said again, sitting at the foot of the bed, looking absolutely miserable.

Jack smiled and shook his head. "It's not your fault, kid. I know you were just trying to help."

Mac fidgeted with the blanket he was worrying between his hands. I can't believe I dropped it."

"We'll get a new one. I told you, it's okay." Mac frowned. "Kid," Jack said mock-sternly, "what's the problem? You look like you're gonna burst into tears on me."

Mac swatted Jack's leg. "Asshole. Here I was feeling bad for breaking your Die Heard DVD because you're stuck in bed again and now you're picking on me."

"Well, you nearly got me hauled back into Medical, so I feel slightly entitled." He grinned at Mac to let him know he was teasing. "I appreciate you guys lookin' out for me. I was so damned tired … so shaken … I didn't even realize I felt like hell for other reasons, too."

Mac glanced at the nightstand and noticed Jack's water was empty. He got to his feet and picked up the bottle to go refill it. "I'll be right back."

Jack shook his head with a good-natured eye roll. "I'm all set for now, bud. I'm gonna float away, if you keep that up."

"You're supposed to drink plenty of clear fluids. Steve said so. I can't help it if you think the walk to the bathroom is suddenly too far." Mac chuckled. "Mel should be back with the new meds Steve ordered up pretty soon. When she gets here, how about I go look for a replacement DVD?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "So long as you take your security."

"How about I take my security and I bring you and your pretty nurse back some lunch?"

"Meaning you are leaving me at Mel's mercy while you go shopping?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I'm not the one with a rebound infection and a fever of 102." Mac cocked a very Jack-like eyebrow at his partner.

"You sure, buddy? Because you kind of look like you're draggin' ass a little yourself," Jack observed, only about half teasing. He honestly thought Mac looked like hell. But he supposed between taking care of Jack's night terrors, getting a little knocked around (and maybe he'd just interrogate Mel as to how 'a little' that was because Mac had not been very forthcoming), and then staying up all night with Fred while Sarah napped with him, and then insisting on waiting on him all morning, Mac had actually had a pretty rough couple of days.

Rather than answering, Mac just rolled his eyes at his partner and went to answer the door. Jack heard a cheerful. "Hey, Melody! He's doing fine. Except I busted his _Die Hard_ DVD."

Then he heard Mel's shocked response as she moved toward his room. "Mac! How could you? He's already sick. Now he's probably got a broken heart too." She leaned in his door holding up a prescription bag with a smirk. "Nothing for a broken heart in here, Delta, but it's a big fat pile of pills that should straighten you right out. Gatorade or sweet tea?

He grinned. "Did you just offer me sweet tea?"

"I know my audience."

"That'd be real nice, Melody." He waved her into the room. She leaned in further. Jack sort of stage whispered, "You think Mac's alright? He looks awful."

Mel shook her head. "I noticed. And I was just given the world's dirtiest look for saying so. I think we've both made the shit list today. His answer was did I want anything from _The Attic_ , because he was headed out to find you a new _Die Hard_. And also he hoped I wanted tacos because that's what he's getting us for lunch."

"Sounds like somebody's in denial," Jack nodded sagely.

"It ain't just a river in Egypt," Mel agreed.

"We'll just gang up on him when he gets home."

Mel gave him a big smile and tossed him the prescription bag. "Now you're talkin', Cowboy." Then she raised her eyebrows. "Speaking of Egypt, if I get him to admit what's going on, do I finally get to hear what the hell happened in Cairo? I have clearance you know."

"I don't care if you're taking confession, I'm not tellin'," Jack said with a shake of his head. Then he frowned. "He is takin' his security with him, right?"

Mac leaned in the door then. "Yes, Dad," he quipped as he threw both of them a mostly playful glare. He knew a conspiracy when he saw one. And he was no way copping to what they were after. No matter how perceptive they were.

0-0-0

Mac wandered through the aisles of _The Attic_ almost aimlessly. He loved the place, but sometimes the organizational themes didn't make sense to someone whose mind was ordered like his. Riley, Jack, Boze, Beth, even Matty all seemed to make perfect sense of the place. Only Mel seemed to get what he was saying about the store feeling like badly controlled chaos. Science nerds could usually be counted on to agree, at least loosely, on basic strictures for organization.

Finally, after forty minutes of what felt like mostly fruitless browsing, he stumbled on a copse of apparent action movies from the 80's and 90's. He started paging through them, looking for the familiar stubbly head and wry smirk of Bruce Willis. He glanced around a couple of times. He kept getting the weirdest feeling that someone was watching him. After ten minutes or so, he stopped and texted Todd, asking if he'd seen anything in his sweep of the store or if Joe, the perimeter guy saw anything. Todd replied that nothing had tripped his radar, or Joe's either and asked for specifics. Mac could give none. Just brushed it off and said lack of sleep must be making him paranoid.

He finally found _Die Hard_ and picked it up out of the bin with a smile. Director's Cut with Special Features. Surely that made up for his exhaustion-fueled klutziness this morning, he thought. Then he saw _Fight Club_ underneath, and below that _Lethal Weapon_. He grinned broadly, picturing Jack's face when he came home with a shopping bag full of favorites. Mac had to admit, there was something to be said for these. He was a special fan of _Fight Club_. He couldn't really talk to Jack about the literary reasons he enjoyed it, but it did give them some common ground movie-wise. It didn't really need an explanation anyway, Mac thought. By the end everything was on fire and things had kind of explained themselves. Todd casually exited the store ahead of him as he paid for the DVDs.

He was about to get into his Jeep when he found himself looking around the parking lot again. He just couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Then he saw it. The red dot of a laser sight on his chest. He dropped to the pavement with a fluid movement, heard Todd call out something, then heard Joe come running. Mac, scanned the area and saw feet running off to the east on the other side of the parking lot.

Not really thinking, Mac scrambled up, shouted out that he was in pursuit to his two teammates, and headed in the direction he'd seen the boots disappearing. He knew Todd wasn't far behind him at first, but as he pursued the all too familiar lean figure running away from him, about a block ahead, he and his quarry outpaced his teammate. His injured side burned, his exhausted brain lagged, but even as he gave chase something about it was bothering him. They were heading into a more industrial neighborhood. His cell phone started ringing as he skidded around a corner. He tried to ignore it. It simply continued to ring. That was the ring tone he reserved for Matty.

"Yeah!"

"We have satellite coverage of the area, MacGyver. There are two teams converging on the suspect. You can stand down."

"He's right in front of me!" he protested, changing directions again.

"And what are you going to do if do catch up with an armed assassin?"

"Um … Improvise?"

"You're being cute, but it's not funny. Stand down."

"Matty, no, I'm gaining and he's right …" he panted with the effort of keeping up the conversation along with the pursuit.

"There's someone closing in on your left flank, too," she stated flatly. "Not one of ours."

Murdoc, because who was anyone kidding, of course it was Murdoc, was headed up a maintenance access ladder on the side of one of the buildings. Because of course he was, Mac sighed to himself. "Matty, he's headed up on a roof."

"I can see that," she snapped, letting him know once again that she was watching from the sat feed she'd already let him know she had. He could almost hear her decide. "Okay, fine. But that's as far as you pursue. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sending in air support. ETA three minutes. I have positive facial ID."

"Good to know." Not that a positive facial ID meant much, if it was just a visual and not a mathematical, he thought, since the resemblance between Murdoc and his brother was so strong. But if he could bag either one of them again, it would be a major leap forward in getting their lives back.

Mac heard Sarah pipe up in the background. "Oversight says we may have an asset in the area, but they aren't giving me an ID to share with Mac."

"You catch that, Blondie?"

"Yeah, there's maybe a friendly, maybe not. Tell Oversight thanks for nothing as usual," he grumbled.

He ended the call and slipped his phone back in his pocket. Against his better judgment, that is that part of himself that had a screaming fit whenever his job called upon him to leave the ground, which was way too often (objectively speaking), he started following. He was only about halfway up when the figure he was chasing disappeared up over the top. He swore to himself and added some speed. As he heaved himself up over the top ledge he was more than half ready to already be dodging bullets, but he didn't immediately see Murdoc. What he did see what that there were ladders on every side, so the man could have easily gone up and over the building. But there were also plenty of things that could be used for cover up here, too. He slowly edged behind a large air conditioning unit, sliding his hand in his pocket to turn off his cell phone's ringer. He'd only just managed it when his phone buzzed with a text.

 _'_ _Mac, what the hell?'_

Jack. Damn it.

 _'_ _What do you mean?'_

 _'_ _Don't be cute with me. Matty said you're out chasing Murdoc without me.'_

 _'_ _Hey, she gave me the go ahead.'_

 _'_ _Mac!'_

 _'_ _See you soon!'_

He shut off the phone altogether. He was going to get the ass chewing of a life time anyway. It would keep until he got home. And he could probably buy a little peace and quiet with the bag of DVDs he'd left at the Jeep anyway. And maybe he'd sneak in some beer for after Mel left. It wouldn't be the first time they'd had a couple when they weren't supposed to. And Jack was going to be righteously pissed off this afternoon, no mistake. He peeked out around one edge, trying to decide if it was worth getting Matty back on the phone to see if she still had Murdoc on the satellite when he heard the familiar voice call out to him from not very far away.

"Oh, MacGyver, I was so very much hoping you'd decide to follow me. You are a little bit predictable. You know it?"

"You mean you knew I'd want to kick your ass after what you did to Jack. That's some real deep thinking, Murdoc," Mac taunted. He knew it drove the man to distraction when Mac pointed out that he didn't consider him all that bright.

"Well, chasing me is such a kneejerk response. That's all I meant. You never stopped to think I let you see me, let you notice me sighting in on you, let you catch up to me, in fact."

In all honesty, he hadn't thought about that. That's what his brain had been trying to get him to come around to, he realized now. Another trap. Fortunately, he could hear the helicopter Matty promised, and he could also hear the sounds of traffic that meant Tactical backup was near. "Maybe you didn't think about me wandering around town being a ruse to draw you out of hiding," Mac ventured.

The paused that followed said that hit home. It was complete bullshit, but Murdoc didn't know that, and clearly the idea rankled. "Don't be ridiculous, boy."

Mac nodded to himself. This was the brother. Murdoc the Lesser. The voice just wasn't quite right. That meant that the real danger was somewhere out of sight. _Hmmm_. He drew out his phone and texted that to Matty. Then he texted, _'Is Tactical well positioned?'_

 _'_ _Why?'_

 _'_ _Because I can draw out the real prize, we know I can.'_

 _'_ _No.'_

 _'_ _It'll work.'_

 _'_ _No.'_

 _'_ _I'm doing it.'_

 _'_ _Fine.'_

Mac inched out slowly, telegraphing every movement, holding his hands up. And he had every intention of keeping the brother talking, but as he got closer, something spooked the man and he brought up the gun he'd been holding. Even tired and beat up Mac was lightning quick and he swept the man's legs out from under him. By the time he had the man subdued, Todd and Joe had joined him on the roof and provided the zip ties needed to secure his hands. The scene was the sort of ordered chaos it always was in the aftermath of any take down no matter how spontaneous or planned. Mac was still scanning the other rooftops, wondering. There was no way Murdoc wasn't somewhere close, watching. Maybe even letting the brother get pinched was part of the plan, he thought darkly. Todd was about to take the necessary steps to move their prisoner off the roof when Mac called out to stop them. He wanted to run that scenario by the lesser of the evils and see if it garnered any reaction. He walked past a number of air conditioning units and smoke stacks, wary, knowing that not only might Murdoc have him in his sights from another rooftop, this one was so crowded, he could be here already.

He'd almost reached Murdoc's brother when the man's head simply disintegrated. Mac felt himself be tackled to the ground from behind and he hit the graveled rooftop hard. Todd and Joe were scrambling for cover too as the roof was suddenly peppered with bullets from multiple directions. Mac was more than half stunned by the tackle but managed to shove himself behind a smoke stack to avoid the hail of gunfire. A few moments passed and there was silence. Mac's ringing ears finally processed that there was more Tactical support arriving, LAPD, too, from the sounds. He looked around. Todd and Joe looked okay, any blood on them looked to be their former prisoner's. Then Mac turned to see who had been hiding on the roof who'd thrown him on the ground. He saw an unexpected tall, grey haired man with soft brown eyes, looking like he knew he'd be unwelcome.

"Dad? What the hell are you doing here?"

A wry half smile that Mac would easily recognize from the mirror if only he knew it lifted the corner of his father's mouth. "The job I agreed to do for Oversight when I screwed up at Christmas. Sort of. It's kind of authorized." He paused giving Mac a long look. "What are you doing chasing the guy you're supposed to have a security detail to keep you away from across Los Angeles on a weekend you're not supposed to be working?"

He smirked. "My job in general. Sort of. It's kind of authorized too." Then he started to climb to his feet. "I guess you're the friendly Oversight wouldn't name?"

"Probably," James said, getting up smoothly, and offering a hand to his son who seemed to be moving a little slowly.

Mac took it and groaned when he was pulled all the way up. "You alright?" he asked, knowing what Mac would say before the question was out of his mouth.

Surprising his father a little bit, he said, "It's be a hell of a rough couple of weeks."

"So, shall we head into Phoenix and get on the same page?"

"Lemme call Matty. I kind of promised some people tacos. And Jack's already gonna be pissed. We may need to buy beer after the debrief. Like all of the beer. In California."


	39. Chapter 39

_A/N-Another less than stellar day, but hey, it was better than the last one, so that's something. Still, I needed these guys to hurt with me a little. ~ J_

James slowed his pace to match Mac's as they approached Matty's office. "I realize I'm repeating myself, but are you alright, Mac?"

He was doing his level best to keep his voice from being overly concerned, but it was increasingly difficult. The situation itself had been intense, Mac looked a little rough, came close to admitting to not being great at the scene, and was now barely moving forward. Mac stopped, stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and leaned against the wall, heaving a long sigh.

"Mac?"

"Huh?" he asked, looking startled to realize that anyone was even with him.

His father gave him a look that had Mac glancing back down at his shoes and feeling all of ten for about thirty seconds. Then James leaned against the wall next to him. "I just asked if you were alright. That's all, Mac," he repeated gently.

Mac's head dropped to his chest for a second in a very old, very familiar gesture that was a combination of amused frustration and resigned defeat. "Just preparing myself mentally," he replied with another sigh. "Jack's in there."

"I thought I heard a raised voice," James observed with a wry smile. Mac did have a tendency to find friends with rather large personalities. For such a quiet person, he seemed to always surround himself with people who weren't.

Mac laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it. "I'm pretty sure he's just warming up."

"Who do you suppose he's warming up on?" James asked, knowing what Mac meant. It hadn't taken long for him to figure out that Jack had taken on the responsibility of looking after Mac whether Mac thought he needed looking after or not a long time ago and would continue to do it probably until they were both old men if they managed to be fortunate enough to make it that far. It gave James a fair amount of affection for the man, despite knowing that no matter what he did Jack Dalton felt he owed him at least a broken nose at some point in their association, largely because he more than half agreed with him.

"Matty," Mac answered with certainty.

"He's chewing out your boss?"

"She authorized me to pursue Murdoc without direct backup. He's at least as pissed at her as he is at me. Probably more. I'll just have to hear about it for longer. Because I live with him."

Mac sighed again and spent a minute staring at the ceiling. "I'm not sure how much you can even tell me about what you were doing there … After you report in, you want to come to dinner? I don't have an extra room at the moment because I'm not staying at my house but …"

"I'm staying in LA right now, and now that you know … Yeah, dinner would be great. I'm sorry I couldn't let you know sooner."

Mac shrugged. "It's the job," For the first time, that felt genuine to Mac and James heard it, too. There wasn't really any bitterness there, not at the moment anyway. He wondered why. He grinned at his father then and cleared his throat. "I'm about to do a bit. Don't even look at me. You could always make me smile when I was lying and I bet I still would."

He nodded smiling back. "Fair enough. Dinner then. After I don't ruin your bit."

Mac's face took on some hard lines and he marched into Matty's office in an obvious huff. "Jack! What the hell are you doing here?"

James hadn't quite made the door when he heard the older man's much more subdued voice answer, "Waitin' on you to get done with the cops and whatnot because you just had to go jump in the middle of something and be a big damned hero and …"

"I didn't have to go and anything, Jack. I got _caught_ in the middle of something. They came after me and I made them sorry they did it."

James entered Matty's office in time to see Dalton give Mac a reluctantly proud nod and say, "You did at that, kid."

Mac folded his arms, glaring down at Jack, who was half stretched out on the couch in the corner of Matty's office. "You are the one who came out of the relative safety of our secure apartment, where you were supposed to be resting in bed, while being monitored by Phoenix medical staff, traipsed halfway across the city all in a tare no doubt, just to yell at Matty for not stopping a situation that was clearly already in progress that she had no control over and then get all grumpy with me for doing necessary damage control, which resulted in one of the guys responsible for the reason you were supposed to be home in bed, no longer being a threat." Mac tilted his head to one side. "That about cover it?"

Jack sat up a little straighter, wincing as he did so, and Mac didn't fail to note that he about as pale and sweaty looking as he'd expected to find him. "Um, well …" Jack began.

"And while we're on the subject of your medical staff, where is Melody?" Jack looked around innocently. "Please tell me you at least brought her with you and that you didn't drive yourself over here, Jack."

He said that as a real plea. That wasn't part of his plan to distract his partner from a Papa Bear rant at all, but more out of genuine worry about the ridiculous risks Mac sometimes saw him take if he thought Mac was in trouble. Matty raised her eyebrows at Jack now too. "Yeah, Dalton, please tell your partner that you didn't convince your nurse that you just couldn't live another minute without Ben and Jerry's Coconut Seven Layer Bar from Union Station's scoop shop because your poor tummy was so upset from your antibiotics so that you could break not just every California traffic law on the way over here, but also several laws of physics, I am fairly certain, just to throw a fit that your partner did what he always does and drew in trouble like the chaos magnet he is!"

"Jack! I can't believe you lied to Mel to come over here just to freak out on me."

Mac thought he did a decent job of pretending to be shocked, but that was a pretty good one. He wondered if it would work a second time. He figured it probably wouldn't work on Mel again, but she wasn't the only nurse on staff. That was damned creative. Jack could see the wheels turning because he said, "It worked! And she got the ice cream! Besides, she's already called and yelled at me, so you two can just knock it right off." He threw Mac a sly smile. "She picked you up a pint of that Buzz Buzz junk you like while she was there because you're a spoiled brat."

Mac didn't crack even a slight smile as he got out his phone and dialed. He waited for a minute. "Hey. Yeah, Matty has him parked on her couch. He looks like refried crap. Is it alright to bring him home, or should I drag him to Medical kicking and screaming and leave him at the mercy of whoever is on duty?" He listened for a minute. "It's Foster and Tim together tonight? Well, that seems like justice." He glared at Jack again who was now giving him very contrite puppy dog eyes. "Are you sure? Alright, as soon as Matty is through with me then, I'll bring him home. Maybe between the two of us we can keep him doing what he's supposed to be." There was a pause and he shook his head. " _Haha,_ very funny. I am nowhere near this bad." He rolled his eyes. Smiles were concealed around the room. Except Jack. He didn't dare. "I'll concede no such thing," Mac said with a slight smile. "See you in a bit." He ended the call and looked to Matty. "Do you need me to debrief my part today or will the sat footage keep Oversight happy for the moment so I can get him back to Mel?"

Matty gave Jack a very pointed look. "It'll keep, Mac. Take your Jackass home."

"Thanks, Matty," he said, glancing up at the screen as she pulled up the footage of the chase and the shooting again to rewatch it. That was her way of indicating a more official dismissal. He extended his hand to help Jack up. Matty was watching them both carefully. He let Jack precede him out of the office. On his way out the door he finally met his father's eye and felt his face split into a familiar from his youth I'm-full-of-shit grin. "How was that?" he asked quietly.

"You've definitely upped your game," his dad replied.

"Still glad I didn't look at you," he grinned again on his way out. "See you at dinner?" His dad nodded.

Matty called at his back, "Hey, MacGyver." He leaned back in the door, eyebrows raised in a question. "Maybe since she's hanging around to look after Dalton anyway, let that nurse of yours have a look at you, too. That's why we keep medical staff, you know. You took quite a hit on that roof."

His father nearly laughed at the eyeroll that prefaced his reply. "I'm fine, Boss. But thanks for the concern."

Matty shrugged. "Then maybe just let her do it for fun. You'd think you didn't enjoy her company or something."

Mac flushed absolutely crimson. "Matty, jeez. Could you ..? I mean … Okay?"

Matty and James both laughed as several people Mac only knew by sight brushed passed him into her office. "Sorry, Mac. Go home and take care of your partner." He slipped out the door, and she added, calling out louder, "And yourself!"

They heard him call down the hall, "You are absolutely not driving, Jack!"

Matty looked around at the other parties sitting down at the table in her office before her eyes settled on James. She'd never noticed the resemblance before but right now, the soft seriousness that he held in his eyes she could see shades of his son, at least a little. "So, that escalated quickly," Matty observed.

"Murdoc is dogging his every step," James said seriously. "And we know why. But I think I may know where he's operating out of here. If you could bring up the satellite footage again, I'll explain."

0-0-0

In spite of feeling chastened by Mac's reaction to finding him at Phoenix, Jack hadn't been able to resist a slight lecture on the way home.

To his surprise, Mac just nodded. "I feel like I can't go anywhere. They must have been watching me."

At that point, Jack decided to let it go. Besides, once they got home, he was too busy being both fussed over and lined out by a very irritated Melody to bother Mac much. And Mac had the good sense to make himself scarce and head to the kitchen to start working on dinner. When James finally arrived, Mac had managed to pull together a decent homemade macaroni and cheese with breaded baked chicken and a salad. He said it wasn't quite Mel's favorite comfort food, but it was the best he could do with the raw materials he had in the fridge and the cupboards and she declared that she had a new favorite comfort food, at least for the evening. She had conceded that Jack could come to the table, but she swore before all of them if so much as put a toe into the hallway outside the apartment to get the paper in the morning, she was dragging him in to Medical and making him Steve's problem. After dinner, she told Jack he'd had more than enough excitement for one day and she was going to help him settle in for the night. James said he should finish his coffee and get going himself. He expected tomorrow would be a long day back at the office.

Mac looked up from his own cup, not overly hopeful. "Anything you can share?"

The dark eyes were guarded, sad, but not closed off. "Not much yet, unfortunately. Murdoc has a very specific objective, which you're already very aware of. I have a general idea of how he's operating here. That's what I've been working on since Christmas. We're putting something together; we're just not sure quite how we want to draw him out yet."

Mac nodded. "I wish we could have gotten something out of Thornton. Then Russia might not have …" Mac trailed off for a minute. He glanced up at his father again. "It was really bad."

James nodded. "I know. I've seen the footage." He swallowed. When Oversight had let him see it, he'd been almost blindly furious. That Mac had been involved in that … That his own career had led Murdoc to his son, even indirectly … Well, he was going to fix that. Before Mac saw another birthday, he was going to fix it. "Pain is what he does. He's a monster."

"Don't give him so much credit, Dad," Mac said. "He's just … Okay, I think about him like that all the time, but we have to stop. He's human. Fallible. Stoppable. He's good. But we're better. We have to be."

James nodded. "You know you and Jack, the rest of the team, you're on lockdown here for the next forty-eight hours at least with doubled security after today."

"Yeah, Matty called," he sighed. He paused. He hadn't told anyone, not even the people who were sort of working on pieces of it. But maybe now was the time. "I have an idea about how to draw him out. I think it would work."

"Alright. Tell me," he leaned forward, listening.

Mac spoke for a few minutes, quietly, not wanting to risk Mel, or Heaven forbid, Jack, hearing any of what he'd been thinking. Finally, he finished and asked tentatively, "What do you think?"

His dad grinned, "Sounds like one of your harebrained Rube Goldberg invention ideas from when you were about seven that I never thought would work." Mac looked almost dejected for a second until James continued. "And then they always did. You never gloated either. You usually gave me credit for making you think them through harder and refine them with my skepticism. So, I'll just say this, sleep on it with that old skeptic talking to you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Mac's eyes slid away from his dad's face for a second. That felt an awful lot like praise he hadn't asked for or expected, but it was pleasantly warming. He smiled, "Me either. I've had enough hurt to last me a while."

"Good," James nodded as he got up to leave. Mac followed him to the door. His dad was slipping into his coat when he said, "You mind if I ask you something kind of personal?"

Mac leaned against the wall next to the door. "Sure."

"When you said, 'It's the job' earlier … you just sounded … different. I feel like it used to bother you … And you have every right to be bothered by the choices I made and what they did to your life and I was just wondering …"

"Dad …" Mac bit his lip, wondering how to put it. "It really did bother me a lot, until lately. I … I've got Jack around. And Boze just got married. A friend of ours has a baby … and she's been around a lot … and I've got someone in my life now … and …"

James's eyebrows climbed, "Is it serious?"

"Dad, no, don't be ridiculous … Just it all makes you think, you know? About family?" James nodded, smiling. "I don't want this to come off sounding mean, but if you hadn't done what you did, but I still wound up in this job, I might have tried to have it both ways, too."

James looked slightly taken aback, but prompted, "Go on."

"I know I don't want to be with someone who doesn't know what I do. And if I get in a serious relationship and we have kids, I'm going to quit, like I told you. Just have a normal life. I wouldn't know I wanted that if it wasn't for what happened to our family. And I'm grateful I guess. I wasn't before, but I am now."

James blinked, not acknowledging why that was necessary, and Mac didn't say anything, just looked away for a minute. James looked back. "How's school going, by the way?" he asked finally.

"Almost done," Mac smiled. Then he frowned. "And Frankie's already trying to rope me into grad school. But I'm not doing it!"

James thought Mac would be brilliant, but he held his tongue. "You do whatever you think is going to set you up for that future of yours, Mac," he said, patting Mac on the arm. "Sleep on your plan. I'll check in with you in the morning and you can fill me in on any changes you came up with and I'll talk to Matty and Oversight, if that's alright."

"Yeah, thanks, Dad."

After they said goodnight, Mac went to do the dishes. He almost jumped when Mel materialized on his elbow a few minutes later. "Hey, you," she said softly.

"Hey, you startled me. Stressful day."

"I imagine it was. Why don't you leave the mess? I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to do that," he insisted.

"I feel like you should maybe think about heading to bed. Maybe even tell somebody who cares about you if you feel less than stellar. If you were so inclined. Since you aren't as bad as Big Baby Dalton."

He smirked. "Did Matty call you?"

She shook her head. "Matty didn't need to call me. You left your pain pills out on the sink, so you were already hurting before you stayed up most of the night with Jack and then ran across half of LA and then got shot at and tackled, cooked up a dinner party, and then cleaned your apartment."

"Are you about to go all mean and bossy medic on me?"

"No. I mean if you're hurt and there's anything you need, you know I'm your gal ..?" her voice went up on the end, but he just shook his head. "I was going to suggest you take one of the pain pills you left out. Then maybe go to bed and get some rest before you wind up with a fever and me yelling at you, too."

Mac gave a slight smile and a resigned sort of nod. He went and got changed into sweats and a t-shirt, swallowed a pain pill as promised (and if he was honest, at this point he really needed it – he wasn't even going to acknowledge how bruised and miserable he was after that tumble on the roof), and walked back into the living room. Mel had changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt, too. Mac cleared his throat. She looked up at him and smiled. He looked sleepy as hell and she thought he might maybe admit to being a little dinged up once he was more rested, but she wasn't going to push. "Um, I forgot you were staying to keep an eye on Jack," he said tentatively. She nodded. "Hey, do you, um, mind taking the bed in my room? I, uh, I'd rather sleep out here."

"Mac, the couch is kind of hard." She didn't finish with and you're moving like you got hit by a bus already, but she kind of wanted to.

"Yeah, I know. But, I took a pain pill. And I … I dream badly when I take those usually. The TV being on helps." That was a lot of honesty, but, at this point he figured he didn't have anything to lose. In fact, he felt like Mel deserved to know what she was getting herself into.

Her eyes narrowed and then widened with a bright realization. "That's why you don't like them."

He shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah."

She got up and took him by the hand, leading him toward his bedroom. "C'mon."

He followed with a sigh. She threw back the covers and looked at him expectantly until he climbed into bed. "This doesn't end well, Melody." He was almost annoyed. You couldn't just decide not to have nightmares. Not when you'd lived his life.

"Sure it does," she said, turning off the light. There was still a comforting warm glow from the living room light and the TV was on out there with no volume. She walked around to the other side of the bed and got in on top of the blankets.

"What are you doing?" he asked, smiling in spite of himself.

"Jack said he never has nightmares if Sarah stays with him. In fact, he says if either of you guys is having a rough time you usually just hang in the same room and it helps. Is that right?"

"Yeah," Mac admitted.

"Good. I don't want you sleeping on that couch. And to be honest I don't much want to sleep on it either. No nightmares for Mac, no backache for Mel. Win-win."

She really was something. He reached out for her hand in the semi-darkness. "You can get under the covers with me, you know."

"I already invited myself into your bed. I didn't want to be presumptuous."

"Now I'm inviting you. Presume all you like." He smiled as she shifted around and got into bed properly. He reached out his arm and pulled her in to his side. He groaned when she put an arm around him before he could stop himself. "And when I feel less like John Hurt in the classic Alien movie, I may even properly enjoy having you here," he said to dismiss it."

"Maybe you could let me play medic in the morning a little after you've had some rest?" she asked softly.

"Maybe. If I've been snuggled into a very agreeable mood."

"It's one of my skills," she smiled into his shoulder, reaching up to brush hair off his face.


	40. Chapter 40

_A/N - Nice long chapter. It's mostly fluff, but as previously mentioned, my week sucked. So, I'm entitled to a little , we needed to let our guys start to heal up a little and kind of check in with some folks. Some action is brewing just over the horizon. For now, enjoy the fluffy goodness. ~ J_

As the following week passed they all fell into a semi-comfortable routine. James quickly became Jim to everyone but Mac, who now comfortably called him Dad with no hesitation to speak of, and joined them for dinner almost every night. Sarah and Fred joined them almost as frequently and an ease developed between all of them that was not only very natural, but seemed to make the pressure of the additional security, the regular briefings, and the at-home work load, or extra shifts for those who were currently authorized to go in to the office, a little easier to bear.

Mac didn't easily admit to being injured, but Melody had gotten information out of him with diabolical subtlety. She'd managed to get him to slowly cop to various aches and pains when they woke the following morning. She arranged things so no one would suggest (out loud) that Mac report in to Phoenix Medical, never openly ratting him out to the doc, but still letting Steve know that maybe while he was keeping tabs on Jack, Mac might need an eye kept on him, too. Fortunately, they were all good enough friends, and Mac had done enough work on that particular wall of his, that he was only moderately put out about it.

Between having his dad, Jack, Mel, Boze, Riley, Steve, Todd, and even Beth and Sarah ganging up on him, Mac finally gave up and did his best to, if not take care of himself, let them do the job for him. Jack tolerated Mel and Steve monitoring him and occasionally narrowed his eyes at Mac and Sarah for taking their side, but, unlike Mac, Jack had learned his lesson about just shutting up and doing what the medics said a long time ago. They put it down to his generally more agreeable personality. Secretly Jack had just realized it just resulted in being left alone more, and sooner. And getting back on the job. People didn't tend to notice it as much, but Jack was worse at sitting still than his partner.

The new Assistant Director of Operations didn't fail to notice the signs of Dangerously Bored Dalton coming and started to make plans to get him back to work in a way that would allow him to continue to heal, and still keep him out of trouble. Mac was going a little stir crazy too, although Sarah was amused to note that everyone, including Melody, simply didn't mention that Matty had banned him from the office to fully recover from his own injuries, rather than because Jack was injured and they had security concerns. He was an easier case though, since a lot of his work was more cerebral anyway. She arranged for most of his office to come home to their secure apartment before the end of the first week.

Mac spent a decent amount of time on the phone with Beth and Bozer getting results from their work, and then pulled Riley in as well. After a quiet afternoon emailing and messaging back and forth, then meeting with his father, he was finally called in to meet with Matty and some of Oversight. He came home looking a little stressed, but almost smug. He and Riley began working pretty hard on something the following day, both at laptops on the kitchen table, parts of some sort of tech and delicate looking tools strewn over a schematic between them. It became a familiar sight over the days to come.

Jack and Mel dissolved into laughter at one point when they realized that it had gotten quiet one evening, not because the two tech geniuses weren't having a conversation about their work, but because they were doing so via chat bubbles at their computers while sitting across the table from each other. Neither Mac nor Riley even looked up at their less tech savvy friends to see what was supposed to be funny. They were too focused, too close to finished with their project, to pay any attention. Mel and Jack went back to watching TV. It had started to distract Jack from being grouchy about Sarah working late several days in a row, but Mel discovered that she had a real taste for Bruce Willis movies. When she said earlier that week that she thought she liked _Armageddon_ the best, Mac did look up from his work and said, with a solemn expression, they should probably break up. She just tossed a throw pillow in his general direction and stuck out her tongue.

Tonight, Riley and Mac were really burning the midnight oil. Matty had informed them that she had some fresh intel that Murdoc was definitely piecing together the remnants of the Organization under a new banner, focused almost entirely on death for hire and was using Los Angeles as his domestic base. Mac's idea might just be the break they needed if they could deploy it. James stopped by to let them know in person that he and Beth had been working on a new alternative to silicate based glass that would survive the necessary deployment measures without breaking and still provide adequate barrier for the device. Mac had thanked him distractedly, showed him the latest design modifications, and gone back to work. Jack and Mel invited him to stay for their movie marathon since the tech aspect of the plan was beyond both of them (Mel knew they might need her for some of the field testing and Jack knew it meant he'd eventually get to shoot at the son of a bitch, but other than that they were temporarily sidelined), but he'd declined saying a fourteen-hour day in the chem lab was nothing when he was Mac's age, but the shady side of fifty made that much less the case. He and Jack had shared a commiserating head shake over the sentiment. Mac and Riley sort of waved when he left, but just kept plugging away; Mac at trying to shrink his project down further and Riley at the software side of it. Sarah hadn't had to work late, but was conspicuously absent due to the most recent round of baby shots resulting in a very fussy Fred and the nanny's inability to get her to settle for the night, so Sarah came home early and they remained upstairs. Mel and Jack had fallen asleep on the sofa in front of _Hudson Hawk_ at least an hour before Riley finally got Mac's attention.

"Hey, I think I finally got it."

Mac looked up. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Just got a smooth run through of all the software and when you moved it from one hand to the other, it registered."

Mac gave a very satisfied sideways grin. "Awesome. I think this is as small as I'm going to get it, too."

She put up her fist and he bumped it, then slipped the tiny device he'd been working on into the small protective envelope that was waiting for it. She closed her rig and put it in its bag, then gave a gargantuan stretch and yawn as she stood. "I'm so glad I said yes when Matty offered me a place in this complex. I can practically fall downstairs to my apartment."

"I'm glad, too," Mac replied. "You look way too tired to drive anywhere, and I may or may not be able to pry Jack off the couch."

She laughed. "I'd offer to help, but I know a lost cause when I see one; I saw one the day I met the old man."

Mac got to his feet too, giving her a very pointed look. "You say stuff like that all the time, but I know you don't mean it."

She glanced over at the couch just to make sure Jack was actually asleep. "Fine. Be all insightful like you do. I love the old fart, I suppose. Maybe not as much as you do, but he's alright." Then she raised her eyebrows at Mac. "Admit it though. He drives you crazy, too."

Mac shrugged. "Yeah, he does. But I don't much mind."

She slung her bag over her shoulder. "What do you think of having your dad around again?"

Mac shrugged again. "This time? It's nice, I think. I …"

"What?" Riley tilted her head.

Mac ran a hand through his hair, giving the appearance of someone either fresh out of a bed, or desperately in need of one. He peered over the back of the couch at Jack. "I was a little afraid they wouldn't get along. Last time was so strained. Every time they were in a room together I thought Jack was gonna punch my dad … And I pretty much wanted him to. Then at Christmas all the crazy stuff with Thornton happened … But things seem good. Normal … Normal for us anyway. I'm just sort of happy and I don't even know what to do with it."

Riley smiled and shook her head. "You better get some sleep. You're only this honest when you're trashed on medication or absolutely exhausted. You're bordering on truth serum here, Mac."

He blinked his tired agreement and laughed softly. "Probably."

"And look, you know Jack better than anybody, so you probably know this already, too, but all Jim needs to do to avoid a Dalton knuckle sandwich lunch special is treat you decent. Seems like he's trying, so Jack's giving him a chance. He steps a toe out of line where you're concerned though?"

"He'll be picking up his teeth, yeah," Mac chuckled. "I think we're actually gonna be okay though. All of us."

"And I think maybe we've earned it!" She gave him a distinctly Jack-style wink. "'Night, Mac."

"'Night, Ri. Let me know when you find us a guinea pig, okay?"

"Will do," she agreed, before closing their door behind her.

He shook Jack loose first. Much as he joked about how hard it would be to wake his partner, that was window dressing for others who didn't know them as well as they knew each other. Like soldiers the world over, both Mac and Jack were light sleepers even on their best nights and could be woken by the lightest sound or touch. All it took was a soft, "Hey, Jack," from their agreed upon minimum safe distance.

Jack's eyes opened like he hadn't been asleep. "Hey, bud. What time is it?"

"Time to go catch some sleep where you won't get a stiff neck, man."

Jack moved to stretch, then his breath caught. "Damn, that hurts."

"Getting any better?" Mac asked, sitting down between Jack and a still sleeping Mel.

Jack nodded, "Oh, yeah, every day. Sore from rehab yesterday more than anything I think. That, and falling asleep on the couch is plain stupid."

Mac grinned. "I'm going to withhold my comments about how you do it almost every night then."

Jack swatted at Mac, but with a grin. "You hush, Brainiac. Get some sleep yourself, ya hear? You put in a lot of hours again today."

"I will, Jack." Jack raised a very disapproving eyebrow as Mac reached for the remote. "I said, I will, jeez. I was just turning it off! Go to bed!"

Jack was half chuckling, half mumbling to himself about partners who didn't know what was good for them as he lumbered sleepily down the hall to his room. Mac smiled fondly at his back, shaking his head. He clicked off the TV and reached over and gently shook Mel's shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open. "Mmmm. Hey. S'late, huh? Done working?"

He nodded. "All done. You don't want to stay asleep here. You'll be all stiff."

She stretched and he smiled at how very like a cat the unselfconscious movement was. "Guess I should shuffle on home," she said, sounding a little more awake and starting to peel herself off the couch.

Puffing out a quick breath and feeling a little like he did before the few times he'd done a jump out of a plane with Jack he reached out and took her hand to stop her. "Um … You could stay here."

Her brow knitted in concern. "You need me to stay tonight, Mac?"

He shook his head, not quite looking her in the eyes.

 _I've been afraid before. Hell, a life like mine, you don't go very long between days where you are pretty sure you might not see the next one. But something my grandfather used to say is there is something worse than facing death. Having a life with nothing in it worth overcoming it for. Since Nikki … Did what she did … Betrayed me, there I said it and that was hard but I said it, I haven't let myself feel much. Even Becca, I feel like I should apologize to her. Because there was never a chance that was going to be anything more than friends with benefits._

 _But this … This is my heart. And I'm scared to death I'm about to screw this up. But I think I'm more scared of doing nothing, of never knowing. And Marie Curie said that there is nothing in life to be feared, only understood, that we have to understand more, experience more so we can fear less. I think maybe Gramps and Madame Curie were both right._

His eyes lifted to meet hers and one corner of his lips came up. "I want you to though."

"Oh." Slowly her brow smoothed. "Oh!"

She got to her feet and pulled him up after her by the hand that he'd wrapped around hers. "Let's go to bed then."

0-0-0

The following morning Jack was surprised to be the first one awake. He responded to an early text from Sarah with a grin, showered, dressed for an unexpected but very welcome invitation to go in to the office with her, and put on the coffee. He was on his second cup when he started to be a little concerned. The door to Mac's bedroom was closed. Mac rarely slept with his door closed. If he did it was usually because Jack had pissed him off by going full Papa Bear and Jack would definitely go there if just telling the stubborn little shit to get some sleep last night was enough to trigger a pouting session.

But Jack honestly didn't think that was it. Mac seemed pretty level last night. Granted he was a little miffed that he was still listed as injured on the field status report, but that was more out of habit than anything, since he would have been up to his eyeballs in his Murdoc project whether at his desk at Phoenix or the kitchen table. The project seemed to be going well, life here in the apartment building had become almost comfortable, and everyone was on the mend and in a good routine.

Even stuff with Mac's dad was going well. Hell, that was the real icing on the cake as far as Jack was concerned. That was what he'd hoped for for the kid when he'd bugged him to try and get in touch all those months ago before all the craziness started that led them here. And Jim was doing just right. Jack was making sure of it. They'd had a nice long talk and Jack had extracted certain promises. Not that he'd threatened the man. He wanted them to be friends. That was better for Mac anyway. But he couldn't be held responsible if Jim had made certain inferences from the implications of his tone or expressions during that talk, now could he?

Jack grinned to himself. Then he glanced at the clock. After eight. That was late for the kid, even if he'd been up for a while saying goodnight to Mel and seeing her off before actually turning off the TV and heading to bed last night. And since busted up ribs were what had him on that injured status, getting sick wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Jack decided he'd better go check on him, just to be sure it was a rare case of Mac acting like a normal twenty-something and sleeping in on a day off and not a cause for concern. Besides, Sarah would be here shortly and he wanted to let Mac know what he was up to for the day. He put down his coffee and went over and tapped on Mac's door with the backs of his knuckles. He was met with an immediate, "I'm up! I'll be out in a minute!"

Jack's face split into a very amused grin when through the door he heard Mel's voice with a muffled, "Have you seen my bra? Don't look at me like that, you had it last."

Jack just hotfooted it back over to the table and sat very casually with his cup of coffee. When the two of them came out a few minutes later he concealed his smile in a sip from his cup because the two of them were as pink cheeked as a couple of high schoolers caught in the backseat of a car by the local cops. Goddamned adorable. Mac had always been sort of reserved about physical relationships. Nikki had liked to embarrass him about it by being overtly flirtatious to the point of inappropriate most of the time. It was nice to see him with someone who seemed as private as he was.

"Mornin'," he said, not acknowledging their awkwardness at all. "You guys want any coffee? It's a little strong. I'm not as good with the brewer as Mac is and I've still got some bad habits from my Army days."

Mel gave a wrinkled-nose grin. "I would have blamed it on your cowboy ways, Tex." She reached up into the cupboard and got a mug, glancing over her shoulder at Mac. "I like it strong. You want some, Mac?"

"I guess, but if Jack says it's strong, be prepared to be awake for a couple of days," he answered with a grin of his own, relaxing at how natural this all felt, as he sat down next to Jack.

Mel was still pouring coffee when there was a knock at the door that sounded suspiciously like someone kicking at it instead of using the handle. Mac hopped up to answer it. When he opened it, he found a very harried Sarah with a fussing Fred on one hip but with her laptop bag in that hand, diaper bag over the other shoulder, and pack-n-play case hanging from the other hand. Mac stretched out both hands. "What can I take to help?"

"A fussy baby?" she said gratefully.

Mac maneuvered a very disgruntled looking little girl out of her mother's arms. "Hey, there Freddie Spaghetti!" he said, making a ridiculous face that immediately curtailed the fussing and had Fred half-smiling.

Jack and Mel joined them over by the door, and Mel was closing it behind them, trying to help Sarah put some things down and look a little less like she was about to tip over. Sarah was almost laughing at how quickly Fred had turned her mood around for Mac. "You are kind of magic, Mac."

He just shook his head. "You were probably up all night with her. Right?"

"Do I look that wrecked?"

Mac bit his lip. "Of course not!" he said, unconvincingly. "Just, you said she was fussy last night when you called. I was guessing. She's probably just sick of you. I'm a new face is all."

Sarah was the one biting her lip now. "I don't suppose I could convince you to babysit for me today, Mac? The nanny called in. I swear she isn't sick, she just doesn't want post-baby shots Fred all grumpy with her! But I really don't want to miss out on those tactical evaluations summaries I need to go over with Jack."

Jack couldn't help rolling his eyes. He was thrilled to go into the office, but less thrilled that it was to sit around and do paperwork. "We could probably just work here, huh?"

"We need other resources," she said, shaking her head.

Mac was bouncing Fred lightly and she was fully smiling up at him now. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm stuck home all day anyway. She doesn't seem all that grumpy to me. It'll be fun."

He glanced at Mel who just gave him a dubious eyebrow raise. "Sure. Fun."

Sarah gave him a one-armed hug. "You are a life saver, Mac. She's pretty agreeable now, but she's bound to get fussy again when her Tylenol wears off. She can have more around eleven. And we'll be back by two at the latest. It's all written down in the diaper bag."

He glanced at Mel and he moved over toward the couch to sit down with the baby. She was getting heavy and he wasn't going to say so but his side was aching from holding her; that and maybe being a little more athletic than he should have been this morning. "I'm putting you in charge of Tylenol."

She laughed, putting up her hands. "That's all I'm in charge of. Fussy babies are not my forte. Or babies at all, really."

"You don't like babies? But you're a nurse!"

"You notice how I work where all I do is put spies and their big dumb security guys back together, right?" she grinned.

"Hey!" Jack said indignantly.

"I'm very sorry. Their very smart handsome security guys who in no way expect me to change diapers like their too cute for their own good but obviously baby crazy partners."

Jack thought that was hilarious. Mac threw a playful glare at her and Jack both. "I am not baby crazy. But Fred is cool! And don't even pretend you don't love this baby, Melody Sullivan. You've played with her for hours before."

Mel grinned and sat down next to the two of them, not actually missing that Mac was guarding his side a little. "True, but she wasn't all grumpy that time. Who gets all whiny over a couple of little shots … Oh my God. I just realized ... She must secretly be a member of your Ops team."

This time Sarah was the one who laughed. "I better get you out of here Dalton. She's on a roll."

"She's good. I'll give her that."

Jack grinned as he went to grab his coat and heard Mac say, "That was a set up."

"It was. You walked right into it." Mel laughed again. "Want me to get your baby entertainment contraption?"

"Sure."

When Sarah and Jack were walking down the hall toward the elevator for the parking garage, Jack asked, "You sure us doing a bunch of paperwork is important enough for you to want to leave Fred all morning if she isn't feeling her best?"

"She's fine, Jack. She loves Mac, Mel's a nurse, and honestly if I stayed home every time she got shots I'd have to quit my job. The first year it's a lot of them and it's often."

"Poor kid." Jack sounded so genuinely sympathetic it made her smile.

"Good thing you don't have to take her. You'd faint."

"Probably," he grinned.

"And we'll be back in a few hours anyway. I don't want to wear you out."

"I don't think a little paperwork is gonna wear me out, Sarah."

She gave him a mischievous smile as she climbed into the driver's seat of her company SUV. "Did I say paperwork? I must have forgotten to update you about the plan for today, Agent Dalton."

"Oh, yeah?" He pulled the door closed, and turned to give her his full attention.

"We've got that new tech of Mac's to get someone used to, which means a new kind of gun, a new kind of set up. And who but Jack Dalton to master it?"

His grin was that of a kid at Christmas. "Where we goin' Sarah?"

"Live fire range. Moving targets. Drones and such. You get to play with the new toys today. And then just for fun I thought we might just shoot at some stuff for a while to blow off steam. We could throw a couple grenades if you want. Together."

His eyes ranged over her face for almost a full minute. "Sarah Gwendolyn Adler, just the split second you are a free woman, I'm inclined to let myself fall head over heels in love with you again."

"Jack Wyatt Dalton, just so long as you promise never to utter my middle name out loud to another living soul, I'm inclined to let you."


	41. Chapter 41

Steve leaned back against the arm of the couch, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I like the look you're giving me right now, Jack. That look usually means you're about to start raining hell down on some dumb son of a bitch who crossed you on purpose. I'm just here to talk, man."

Jack rubbed his eyes for a minute, then just leaned over and picked up his beer off the coffee table. He took a sip. "Why come over and tell me this now? I was comin' in on Monday anyway," he groused.

"Maybe I wanted you to have a drink or two in you because I knew you were going to get that murderous gleam in your eye." Jack smirked and shook his head. "Or maybe because we've been friends for a while now and it's shitty news and I didn't want you to hear it in a place you hate and have to walk out and face people who were gonna start asking you questions right away. Like your partner, for example. And your boss."

"You don't think if maybe I give it some more time … I don't know … More rehab … Maybe it'll just go back to the way it was?" Jack was unconsciously rolling his shoulder around in its socket, wincing even as he did so.

Steve picked up his own beer. "How long's it been now, Jack? Six, seven months? Two more surgeries?"

"Eight months. And yeah," he sighed. Had it really been that long? Considering he'd chased a crawling Fred all over the park the previous afternoon with Sarah, it had to have been. "You really tellin' me you're not gonna give me full clearance on Monday? 'Cause I really hate the idea of Mac goin' after Murdoc again without me at his back and you know we finally got another line on the bastard and …"

Steve put up a hand. "I'm not telling you that at all, Jack. I'm clearing you when you come in. Just … As far as you in the field," he paused. There wasn't a way to put this that Jack was particularly going to want to hear, so he might as well just say it while they were alone. "You're on borrowed time for doing what you do. They really did a number on you in Russia. And it's not coming back the way we hoped. You're in your fifties, man. We knew that was a possibility. I just figured it'd be better to say it now and give you some time to get used to the idea. Maybe think about what you want to do next."

He glanced at the picture of Sarah and Fred sitting on the end table when Jack's eyes had immediately flicked to it. Yeah, Jack was going to be okay. Jack gave him one of his trademark crooked smiles. "I appreciate the warning, Doc."

His gaze wandered around the room for a minute and finally landed on Mac's diploma hanging in a frame from the wall. Jack was the one who'd had it framed. He was so damned proud of the kid he could hardly stand it. It was surrounded by pictures of Mac and a group of kids he'd been taking out into the mountains on odd weekends for some adventure learning experiences; tough kids who didn't necessarily, as Mac put it, 'do school' all that well, but who seemed to learn from Mac just fine. Mac was more proud of those. Jack had gone with them a few times. He thought if the kid decided to teach more, he'd do a hell of a good job; maybe even change the world more for the better than he was already doing. Contrary to his original protests, Mac had been plugging away at his Master's, too. And they could probably have moved back in to Mac's house by now, but they'd never even discussed it, just stayed here, close to Sarah and Melody. They were all treading lightly around conversations about the future. But they thought about it. Jack knew they did.

Time was coming, maybe they should talk about it.

0-0-0

"Mac, get down!" Jack shouted over the sounds of explosions and gunshots, both distant, and not so distant, as well as the crashes that followed them.

Uncharacteristically Mac just ducked with no argument. It had been a hell of a long couple of days though and the team had been on the run for the better part of the last fifteen hours. It was full dark now and Mac looked dead on his feet. Mac was always picking on him about getting old, he ought to say something about pushing thirty just to lighten the kid up. Jack grinned as he picked off the oncoming bag guy in body armor. Body armor was great. It was. But the neck was always vulnerable. And Jack's shoulder might be going to shit on him, he thought ruefully, but his eyes were still better than Mac's. And his aim was better than just about anybody's.

"Alright, kid. Do your thing."

"Thanks, Jack!" Mac called out as he popped back up to finish dismantling the overly complicated series of switches on the explosive device keeping them out of the building. "Aaaaannnnd, got it!" he exhaled triumphantly.

"Great, I'll go in an …"

"Whoa there, Cowboy," Mac stopped him with a hand in the middle of his chest. "You'll watch my six. I'll get the package. Ri, Steve!" he called over the comms, "How we doing on transport?"

Riley's voice came over the comms. "Be there in … Shit!" There was a sound of a close explosion. "Gotta go around. In about two minutes," Riley finished a little breathlessly.

"Todd, how's the exfil site looking?" Jack asked, leaning over to pick off another approaching man in black who'd just nearly gotten off a clean shot at Mac by being sneaky as hell. No answer. "Milton. Exfil status, damn it!"

"He's mobile," Steve answered. "Comm's just down."

"Least we know he's movin'," Jack grumbled.

"Wait a minute," Mac squinted at something across the street.

"What're you ..?" Jack began, as Mac disappeared, darting across into the opposite alleyway instead of the expected doorway of the nearby long low building without another word. "Damn it, kid!" Jack called at his back. "We shoulda made Mac be the guinea pig for that tracker instead of Todd. For all the good it's done us with Murdoc goin' all DB Cooper. I swear I won't have anything but grey hairs left by the time I reti …"

Gunfire from across the street, in a building they had thought was clear, kicked off a whole new round of Jack cursing as Riley and Steve pulled up on the other side with their stolen van, having lost the one they'd arrived with to a small well-placed explosive that nearly incinerated their whole hotel room. Jack swore again as Mac dove behind him, once again narrowly missing fire from across the street. "You know what would have been great, Mac?"

"What's that?"

"Not starting a gang war while we were here!"

"You know what wouldn't have been better?" Mac asked, stuffing something he'd carried back across the alley into his bag. Not waiting for Jack's reply, he said, "Not having bad intel about where the package was to begin with because our CI was working for the opposing gang."

Jack frowned at him but Mac grinned, holding up his bag as he slung it over his shoulder. "Fortunately, I never trust a confidential informant. Especially not in the country you are convinced it always trying to kill you, Jack."

"Always said you were a smart guy, Mac."

"Let's get out of here before Belarus finally makes good!"

"Now you're talkin'. Let's bounce!" Jack crowed.

Mac glanced at his watch. "And fast. I may have created a diversion. Well, will create. Willon having to have created …"

"No Douglas Adams references on missions Mac. Jack gets all confused!" Riley called over her shoulder as they started piling into the van amid a fresh round of bullets. Jack thought he head Mac swear, but as soon as the doors were closed Mac shouted, "Go, go, go!" to Riley, who was behind the wheel.

They had barely pulled away when the building Mac had gotten whatever it was he stuffed into his bag exploded rather impressively behind them, raining debris down on the van and all over the street behind them. Steve, who was talking on one of their radios, rather than relying on his earpiece, shouted in surprise when a large chunk of the building landed on the hood and broke their windshield. Riley, gave a slightly startled laugh and just started brushing glass out of her way with her jacket sleeve. She glanced at Steve. "Man, you've been on the team a while, and this is your first time with Mac-style vehicle air conditioning? Damn, we took too long to break you in, Doc."

Steve shook his head and said something else into the radio that Jack couldn't hear. "That Milton?" Steve just nodded and kept talking. "How's the airport?"

"Clear so far, but he thinks we've got incoming," Steve said over the noise.

"Damn," Jack nodded, moving to the seat next to Mac. "Tell him he better be ready to get it off the ground when we get there, 'cause you and me are gonna be busy, Doc."

Mac was giving him a knowing look through narrowed overly bright blue eyes, but he didn't say anything. Steve said, "The usual, huh?" unbuckling his seat belt and moving to the back.

"Yeah," Jack replied. He started helping Mac take off his jacket. "Make my night and tell me it's a graze, bud."

Mac bit back a cry of pain and then swore, the kind he saved for moments like this and fouled optics on laser equipment. "It's not a graze, Jack."

Now that the jacket was off, he could see that plainly for himself. He and Steve exchanged a look. "How ya doin', kid?"

"Kind of wishing we were in the air and I was full of pain meds at the moment," Mac groaned. Jack raised his eyebrows and Steve widened his eyes, but Mac didn't notice. This was definitely going to put a damper on his plans to take his student group up on the mountain at the end of the month. Damn it all. And, oh crap. "Shit," was what he said out loud.

"You okay, Mac?" Steve asked, stopping packing the wound with gauze as a temporary measure until they could get to the airport and off the ground.

"No," Mac said honestly. "We were going to go see Melody's parents in a couple of weeks and I'm probably …"

"Still going to be at Medical?" Steve offered.

"Like hell!" Mac snapped.

"Oh, good, you're not dying." Steve joked.

Mac actually smiled. "Not yet anyway." He shifted to see how bad it was. "At least I got that hard drive. I guess."

Jack shook his head, running a hand through his substantially grey hair. "I'm getting to old for this stuff, Mac."

"You and me both, Jack," Mac sighed.


	42. Chapter 42

Jack tiptoed quietly back into the room to find Mel adjusting something on Mac's IV, not to mention checking his monitors a little obsessively. He put a coffee in her hands and led her over to the chair he positioned next to his by the head of the bed. "How's he doin', honey?" he asked her gently.

"Upgraded from critical to serious. That's an improvement," she almost whispered back. Not that there was any danger of waking him. Steve had made sure he was on an aggressive amount of pain management and sedation. Abdominal wounds were awful. And this one, well it was more than average levels of bad. "He was conscious in recovery briefly, when he talked to you, but that's it," she met his eyes then, gave him a small smile, grateful that Jack had been with him for the little while he'd come around.

"He asked after you," Jack said, then he wished he hadn't told her, when he saw the storm that caused in her eyes.

The storm didn't last long though, because she squeezed her eyes shut and put down her coffee on the bed side table and her head found its way into her hands. She had been okay when she was just on the floor doing the job, but her shift had ended about ten minutes ago. Now she was at loose ends, sitting here watching this man who never ended a day without saying I love you anymore, hadn't in months, even if it was a text from some undisclosed location half a world away; this man who never stopped moving who almost always had a smile splitting his tan face, looking way too still, too pale, and even full of the best medicine his good friend and one of the best doctors Mel knew could prescribe, with his brow creased in pain.

Jack scooted his chair closer and put an arm around Mel's shoulders. "Hey, Doc says he's gonna be okay, right?"

She nodded, from behind her hands. With his free hand, Jack swiped at the moisture in his own eyes, so once she pulled herself together it wouldn't set her off again. Jack had been in this position just one time too often with Mac. Kid wouldn't even be thirty until the end of the damned week. Spending half your youth in the hospital was no damned way to make the most of it, and he deserved to, Jack raged quietly to himself. He didn't care how many lives Mac had saved over the years either. The life that most mattered to Jack had been filled with may too much pain, with far too many interruptions, injuries, slow recoveries. Shit, half of them could probably have been avoided if Jack had been just a hair faster, understood Mac just a shade better, and this time, Jack could help but wonder if his bum shoulder didn't have something to do with how hurt the kid wound up. He realized Mel had sat back up and was staring at his tearstained face. She didn't seem self-conscious of the eye makeup running down her own cheeks at the moment either.

"Don't you do that to yourself, Jack Dalton."

"Do what?" he asked, wiping his face, and half smiling, because she had her bossy nurse about to yell at him voice, and at least one of them was distracted from feeling like shit about Mac for a split second.

"Blame yourself for what happened to him. Your shoulder didn't keep you from doing your job."

Jack bit his lip. "How did ..?"

"I see everyone's files," she answered matter-of-factly.

He just nodded, handing her a tissue off the night stand. He didn't need to ask her if she'd mentioned it to Mac. He knew she wouldn't; Mel was a complete professional. In fact, when they'd gotten an unconscious Mac back to Phoenix for emergency surgery, Mel had been the nurse on duty. Jack would barely have known that she knew the patient. She was quick, efficient, precise, dispassionate, until he was handed off to their surgical team. She had disappeared into the on-call room after that for a few minutes, and when she brought Jack coffee and something that he ate but never remembered afterward a little while later, he knew she'd been crying, but all she did was her job. She sat with him, explained in a quiet, reassuring voice what was happening, and then offered to make phone calls for him, if he wanted. He'd gotten up and wrapped her in a bear hug then, asking if she needed anything. She'd just shaken her head. "I'm working, Jack. I have a focus. You need me, just call."

Now she looked a lot less together. Her lip trembled slightly when she said, "I'm glad he's just sleeping through some of it, but …"

"But what?" She hesitated, and his arm went back around her again. "It's okay, Meoldy."

"I haven't gone to bed without an 'I love you from him' at least a stupid heart text or something in months. And I know I should go home. But I'm not leaving him. He hates it here. If he wakes up … He might need me."

"Same here," Jack said, his voice husky. "I meant about leavin'. Generally, I can sleep without little heart texts, although I do appreciate them as much as the next gal."

A second ago they were both a breath away from breaking down and as Mac had learned years ago in the dust and misery of Afghanistan, Jack had a gift for inducing very necessary quiet bouts of nervous laughter.

"He'd yell at both of us you know," Jack said. Mel cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm blamin' myself, you're beatin' yourself up that there's not more you can do. He'd say it's just the job and we both hafta get over it."

"This job sucks," was whispered from a few feet away.

Jack and Mel separated so they could get on opposite sides of his bed, each as close to him as possible. They each picked on one of his hands, and though his eyes were barely open, Mac managed a smile at both of them.

"Hey, how's your pain?" Mel asked, almost reflexively.

"Oh, no," Mac said, sort of managing a sleepy head shake. "Don't you go all nursey on me. You were all girlfriendy a second ago when I's sleep." He thought hard for a second. "You gonna call everybody?"

She smiled at the look on his face. Somehow, with only one eye half open, not really as conscious as he thought he was, there was a fair amount of the old dread she would have expected. It made him look even younger than the drug-induced sleepiness. "Nobody thinks you're waking up tonight, Mac. I don't have to call anybody. If they ask, I'll tell 'em a little white lie."

"You'd get in trouble for me?"

"I'm not even working."

"You're wearing your mean bossy clothes," he mumbled.

"I could go change," she offered, willing to do anything to make him more comfortable.

His eyes widened suddenly, looking more awake. "Stay. Okay?" His voice had already drifted quieter again.

"I will, Mac. I'll stay." He started trying to shift himself over in bed to make room for her. She shook her head. "You let me take care of that," she sighed. "You are hooked up to all kinds of things you'd rather not know about right now."

As Mel started trying to figure out exactly how she was going to accommodate his obvious desire for her to lie next to him, Jack distracted Mac by asking, "Do you feel like a guy who lost a piece of his liver to a bullet? Better or worse? Steve and I have a bet."

Mac shook his head. "Piece of my liver, huh? Guess asking about going home tomorrow is just gonna get me a dirty look." He glanced sleepily at Mel, who just raised her eyebrows at him. He forced his eyes slowly back to Jack. "I don't hurt at all. That's probably bad, huh?"

"No!" Mel interrupted. "It's good. You're not going anywhere anyway. No reason to hurt. Right, Mac? Because if you try to be a hero and leave one second before it's smart to do it, I promise you I will show you which one of us is better at tying knots. And trust me, it's not the guy who got kicked out of Scouts. Okay?"

He smiled again, and it was definitely dopey. Mel and Jack smiled back. "Okay. But _flugelhorn_ on the tying me up anyway."

She had no idea what he was talking about for a second and then when it hit her she started laughing. It quickly became the sort of hysterical laughter of the completely stressed and exhausted and she had to sit down in one of the bed side chairs until it passed.

"What the hell is that all about?" Jack asked, chuckling anyway.

Mac, sleepy, dopey, and totally oblivious, confessed, "It's the safety word, Jack, 'member because we said that Melody was a dominatrix …"

She silenced him with a kiss. "Go back to sleep. Okay?"

He nodded, eyes already fully closed again, but not letting go of her hand. "But stay."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She kicked of her crocs and carefully got into bed with him, mindful of the distressing number of tubes and wires, which she knew wouldn't be there for long, but which were a distressing reminder of just how serious that gunshot wound had been, and were also a good indicator of how trying things would be the second Mac was even marginally more with it. She felt bad for whoever was going to be on his case. It wouldn't be her. There was no policy against it at Phoenix. Their lives were too complicated for the usual rules to apply, but she found she couldn't compartmentalize that effectively anymore. She was too interested in being the one to make him smile. She just couldn't do it anymore. Not for long anyway. Not and hold onto her sanity. As she carefully put her hand in the middle of his chest, avoiding the sensors there, she didn't know if she could continue to work here, continue to know what he did and keep her sanity. She would never ask him to stop doing the job for her comfort, but she thought more than once about taking a step back. The way she'd sobbed on the cot in the on-call room as he was wheeled off for surgery told her it was probably a talk worth having after he'd recovered.

Jack gave Mac's hand a squeeze and smiled at Mel, who looked almost as tired as Jack's doped up partner. "Jack," Mac's eyes fluttered open again. "Where're you … Don't go. You never go."

Jack gave him a crooked grin. "You hate this place so much you need both of us, huh, kid?"

Not about to dignify that with a response, and too heavily medicated to sort through it anyway, Mac just responded, "Yes."

Mel lifted her head off the pillow. "I made sure the other bed was made up fresh, Jack. You always stay. And you don't look like you're in any shape to drive home anyway. When's the last time you slept?"

Jack didn't answer, but Mac did. "He always looks tired after missions. 'S cuz he's old."

"I am not old!" Jack said defensively, taking off a very stiff, sweaty, and dusty boot.

"Are so. You're the … dad person … Um … And I'm …"

Mel saw the grin Jack was wearing and she smiled back. If shear unadulterated love and affection could heal a guy up, Mac would be running laps by morning. Jack just lay down on top of the sheets, stretched out like she'd seen him do on missions; ready to move at a second's notice. "Alright, kid. You got me. I'm old."

Mac closed his eyes more finally and Mel was gratified to noticed his heart rate and respiration slowing on the monitor over the bed. Then as she started to almost relax against him, he spoke again, very distinctly. "I love you, you know."

In almost perfect unison, Mel and Jack answered, "I love you, too, Mac."

Then they both sort of awkwardly began to apologize, to ask who he had been talking to. Mac opened his eyes long enough to roll them, then he closed them again and mumbled, "I was talking to both of you. Obviously."

After that they all put in a peaceful night, well-earned on all sides.


	43. Chapter 43

Mac leaned back against his pillows, vaguely amused, in spite of himself, and still just a little too medicated to care much one way or the other.

"You're off duty, Mel, and you know policy states …"

"I wrote the damned policy, Timothy Barnes. You are not going to poke forty holes in him on his birthday!"

"His line needs to be changed and there's orders for more labs and …"

"And you still haven't figured out how to do a stick without your patient wanting to crawl into a hole afterwards! I'll do it!"

"You can't. Temporary leave is still leave, Melody," Tim said, quoting protocol at the person famous for being able to do so no matter the circumstances.

"Ugh!" she practically growled.

Mac tugged on Mel's sweatshirt. She turned toward him. "You're on leave?"

Her expression immediately softened and she sat on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, I … I just put in for a couple of weeks. I … didn't want anything to take me away from you." Then she glared at Tim. "Now, I realize I didn't really think this through!"

Tim's eyes widened slightly, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mel. I'm just following the rules. I'd hate for the boss to yell at me when she gets back _from her leave_." He took the existing IV out and cleaned and bandaged the site on Mac's arm with no comment whatsoever.

Mac had to smile a little at that. He hadn't been subjected to Tim's less than stellar venipuncture skills yet this stint in Medical, but the guy was really pretty decent. He'd brought Mac the X-Box One from the nurses' station and his personal NHL game and Mac had managed to take Vancouver through the Cup twice the last three days. And Mac was the last person on earth to give a thin damn about protocol. But Melody could quote chapter and verse about the rules here in Medical. He was pretty mellow, and frankly, birthdays were born to suck. "Mel. It's okay. Don't make trouble for yourself on my account."

"Mac!" she started to argue for him, on his own behalf. Something she never would have anticipated happening, certainly not on this floor, or with him trying to be the voice of reason.

"Look," he said, placatingly. "Veins are just veins, right?"

"I guess, but, yours are …"

"In the arms of someone who doesn't like them poked with stuff mostly," he smirked.

"And kind of tiny and weirdly placed," she said, almost defensively.

"Sure, sure," he said calmly. "But, look. You got this." He fished around in the bedside drawer for a second and came up with a purple sharpie. "Show him how it's done."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "What?"

"Like, just mark where he should do it. Then you won't break your rules. You love your rules. So, X marks the spot or whatever. And if he still screws up, I'll get Jack to punch him when he comes back with my birthday cupcake."

"What?!" Tim asked sounding slightly panicked.

"Don't worry," Mac said calmly. "I'm putting a lot of faith in you. Mel is good at finding the right spot and she doesn't want you to hurt me. I'm sure Jack won't need to beat you up or anything."

"Um … I'll be back in a minute …" Tim trailed off, leaving the room, taking none of the equipment or paperwork with him.

Mel raised an eyebrow at Mac. "Did you just scare your nurse out of your room?"

"You wanted him to leave, didn't you?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, but …"

Mac shrugged. "You could just take me home. I mean, it _is_ my birthday …"

Mel just rolled her eyes, as she took out her phone and sent a text to Steve. If she was going to get herself in trouble, the doc might as well know about it. "Not today. But I am willing to gift you with a tiny rule break." Then she went about the business of taking the blood samples Steve had ordered and starting a new IV line. Mac knew better than to do anything other than to lie back and close his eyes, turning up the volume on the TV as a distraction.

This was a very different guy from the one she had met when she started working here. That guy could literally be clutching a gushing wound, be ordered to Medical by the boss, and just casually lean against a door jamb like nothing was wrong and say, "Hey, can I get a couple of band-aids?" instead of admitting to needing, or more accurately, being willing to tolerate, professional help. That same guy couldn't have been counted on to stay overnight without Jack parked next to him glaring even if everything including his own good sense told him it was wise. This Mac had been here for days, and was doing his best to save sullen sighs for when he thought no one was looking. In fact, he'd mostly been a model patient, from what her friends had told her. When she was finished, she surprised him by closing her lips over his. "You good, Mac?"

"Mmmhmmm." He opened his eyes now, giving her his I'm not mad at you for doing your job smile, one that had been added to the repertoire the last six months or so. "All done?"

"Yeah. For now. Steve said maybe home on Monday. Did he tell you this morning?" She was squinting at him like she was sorry it wasn't better news.

"He did." He laughed lightly at her expression, then pressed a hand to his side. He was still allowing them to manage his pain some, but he'd started insisting that they seriously taper the stronger stuff yesterday, so he could see how he did with over the counter meds. Mel clearly hadn't checked his chart yet, because she hadn't gotten grouchy with him about it. "It's okay, Mel. Trust me when I tell you I've had worse birthdays. I'm surprised Jack didn't give you my full sob story to play you for sympathy for me before you came in here today."

"I told him the same thing I'm telling you, I don't have any say over when Doc lets you out of here. He told me some stories, anyway." she said. Then she looked at him very solemnly. "Your dad told me, a little bit, too." He just nodded. "I'm still sorry you're here. But I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice caught so she stopped.

He took her hand and she sat down on the edge of his bed. "Me, too," he gave her a half smile. Then he tried to push himself up a little and flinched in pain.

"So, you thought, 'why not just be miserable for my birthday since turning thirty is so awesome otherwise?'" she frowned at him. He gazed back, his face a picture of innocence. "Why aren't you just letting Steve decide you med dose? Why push back right now? Stubborn jerk," she huffed, hating the line that was now clearly drawn across his forehead because she knew it meant he was hurting.

He swallowed hard, forcing his face to smooth, the same way he had with Jack a little while ago. He'd stopped letting them both stay and wake up stiff and grouchy after the second night, so had just been visiting a lot since, but he knew Mel planned to stay tonight, and he was looking forward to it. It got lonely here; too easy to go to dark place, too easy to remember things best left buried. "Because I want to go home," he said softly.

She brushed his hair off his forehead, smiling slightly at the vulnerability in his voice. "I know. I'm sorry you aren't already there. But, even Monday is pretty early after a hepatic resection, you know. Especially one resulting from trauma."

"I know, I know. I got the whole spiel from Steve this morning, first thing when I tried to weasel my way out of here."

"You knew he wasn't going to let you leave, Mac," she chided, shaking her head.

"Never know until you try, Melody. And I did have the whole birthday card to play."

She smiled. "I do have a present for you, but it'll have to wait until you get out of here, so for today, what do you want for your birthday? I'll bring you anything you want for dinner, go get you anything you want to watch or play on the X-Box."

Mac gave her a smile, and she couldn't help but thinking there was something a little sly about it. "I'd really like some real clothes from home." She frowned. "Not like jeans or anything. Just sweats and a t-shirt. I'm not bleeding every time somebody changes my bandages so I'm tired of hospital gowns and these weird drawstring pants." She nodded, knowing there was going to be a little company here later, at least for dinner. She noticed him looking at the clock and like he was doing mental math. She could almost see him writing things down and erasing them. Jack had mentioned the habit and she'd started looking out for it. Damn it, that was adorable.

"What else? Thirty is a big one. I played every pinball game between here and San Francisco for mine."

Mac grinned. "I keep forgetting you're older than me. Three years older. Ooo, that means you'll be forty first."

"Watch out, Angus Henry MacGyver. You want to leave on Monday, or you want an old lady to pop a couple stitches for you?"

He laughed and then really held his side, "Oh, shit."

"Hey, oh, hey, I'm sorry," she got an extra pillow from the other bed for him to press against his side.

"I'm fine," he lied, narrowing his eyes, and then once again forcing all evidence of discomfort from his face. Well, most of it. The way one of her eyebrows stayed up, he knew she'd gotten too good at reading him for that. Jack was too. "Okay," he sighed. "I'll ask for something when Tim comes back."

"Really?"

"Scout's honor," he smirked.

"You're a shit."

His grin got bigger and he smoothly continued their conversation. "Any chance you could try to find the original _Dune_ for me and then maybe also the crappy miniseries they did. I kind of want to watch the good one and then go all _MST3K_ on the reboot. I bet The Attic has them both."

For a spy who was used to selling people a bill of goods, Mel thought he looked awfully shifty, and if he could move without looking like he was going to throw up or pass out, she would have been slightly worried he was about to stage a daring escape of the variety Jack liked to pretend were run of the mill, but which Mac had assured her had only happened once, or like maybe four or five time, for totally legitimate mission related, and not just him being an enormous wuss about medical stuff, reasons. She agreed, after she exacted a promise that he would actually do something about his pain, and then waited until after he called Tim, who just pretended not to notice that Mel had gotten the blood samples he needed and gotten the new IV started, but tipped her a grateful wink on his way back out the door. Then she gave him a kiss and promised to be back by three.

When she got back she found James there. He and Mac looked suspiciously like they had been crying, but she couldn't be sure. Besides, she supposed Mac's birthday had its share of baggage for both of them. Besides, she reasoned, Mac just looked exhausted anyway, and that was common enough after the surgery he'd had, even if it hadn't been preceded by a gunshot wound. When she entered, they stopped whatever they were talking about and both smiled broadly. James excused himself pretty quickly saying he knew Jack and Bozer and everyone were bringing by dinner and cake, and he thought the hospital bed that was already involved was ruining Mac's birthday enough without the tension of everyone remembering of how badly he'd screwed up one long ago birthday. Mel had busied herself with shaking out the closed Mac asked for and hanging them up on the bar in the bathroom when Mac's eyes had filled and he'd pulled his father into his arms. "Hey, Dad, don't. I told you. I forgive you. If you hadn't done that, I wouldn't know what I need to do now."

Mel heard Jim ask, "You sure about this plan?" and Mac quietly answer, "Hey, for once I have half a one, you ought to be proud," as Jim left, chuckling softly.

Jack arrived shortly after with cake, followed by Bozer and Beth with bags of takeout, then Riley, Matty, Todd, Steve, and finally Sarah and Fred and with little gifts and the promise of a proper celebration once he was home and feeling up to it. Thirty was a big deal. Mac clearly enjoyed the distraction, and although he appreciated the gesture of all the food, he didn't eat much. The surgery and the pain meds were hell on his appetite. He did manage to eat some cake, but enjoyed letting Fred make a mess of some much more that consuming his own slice, and Sarah had at least as much in her hair as Mac had eaten by the time they left, which he happily memorialized on his phone.

They didn't all stay long, but by the time they all cleared out, Mac was beat. After he brushed his teeth and changed out of the t-shirt Fred had smeared with cake, Mel didn't even ask if he wanted to watch the movies he's sent her out to find. She just dimmed the lights and climbed into bed next to him, lying on her side facing him in the not quite dark room. He was smile at her, looking tired, and sort of … slightly worried … she thought.

"I know being here sucks, but happy birthday anyway," she whispered.

"It might be yet," he answered cryptically.

She frowned as he reached under his pillow and groaned a little as the movement pulled at his side. He'd taken something more for the pain, but not much, and it had been quite a while ago now. He pulled out a simple gold band dangling on a matching chain, plain, but well made, twinkling in the light from the hallway. Not knowing what else to do, she asked, "What's this?"

He took a slow, careful breath. "This … This was my mother's wedding ring. The necklace belonged to my grandfather Harry. He wore some religious medal on it when he was in the war, like the one Jack wears."

He held it out to her and she took it, looking at it in the dimness, feeling her eyes fill already, but not quite being able to articulate why. "It's beautiful," was all she could think to say."

He nodded. "They were the people who first taught me about love. And that you don't always get to decide what it looks like, or even how long you keep it. I … I always had Harry's chain in my pocket, but I asked my dad for the ring today."

"Yeah?" she asked, barely able to breathe.

"I … I don't do diamonds or … that stuff … and I don't even know what our lives might look like … I have some things I still have to do … but … I just …" His breath caught and he bit his lip. He was so tired and he just didn't quite seem able to form the words he wanted to say. He plunged on anyway. "That's just … I want you to have it. I love you. Now and for as long as I can. It's my promise to love you for as long as I'm me and it's a question, too, I guess, I just want to know, that is, I mean …"

Tears were running down her cheeks now and she really didn't give a damn. She kissed him, probably harder than was good for him, she realized when he gasped a little, but he clearly didn't care, because he kissed her back just as hard. When she pulled away, she shook her head, "Yes. Absolutely unequivocally now and forever past the heat death of the universe, Mac."

He grinned, ignoring his own wet cheeks. "Yeah?"

"Oh, hell yeah." She smiled. "Is it too geeky if I wear it on the chain around my neck?"

"How is that geeky?" he asked sleepily.

"Because it's the one ring to rule my heart."

He laughed. "Ow. Damn it."

"Can I get somebody to bring you something now that you know you're stuck with a nurse for the rest of your life anyway?"

"I guess," he sighed.

She reached over him for the call button and used it as an excuse to kiss him again. While they were waiting he started snickering softly to himself. "What's so funny?"

"I am so gonna make Jack give a best man speech."

"Make? Make? Jack Dalton has been writing the best man speech since the first time he walked in on us kissing and you know it."

Mac slipped his arm around her, suddenly feeling very warm and comfortable. "Then it had better be good.


	44. Chapter 44

Mac was feeling both sore and sullen, but couldn't keep from smiling as Mel gave a growl that was as amused as it was frustrated when Fred pulled herself up and scattered papers off the coffee table again. She scooped the almost-toddler up and plunked her down in the playpen next to where Mac was resting on the couch, giving him an exaggerated scowl as she bent to pick up the papers. "What are you grinning at? You're still in trouble with me."

"I …" She looked at him sharply and he just closed his mouth. She bit her lip to keep from smiling as she went into the kitchen. Then he tried again when she came back with a teething cookie for Fred. "Does it help that I'm sorry and I've seen the error of my ways?"

The half-smile that lifted one corner of her mouth said she wasn't really upset. "Really?"

"I shouldn't have gone for a run," he said with his most contrite expression.

She sat down next to him. "You don't mean that even a little."

"I kinda do. Mostly." He shrugged. "Okay, I don't, but I'm the one who threw up on the corner in front of the neighbors and almost passed out in the elevator. Haven't I paid for my mistakes enough?"

"I suppose," she shook her head. "You're supposed to be a genius though. That was dumb."

This time he gave a genuine sigh, but his jaw regained a stubborn set. "It was in the spirit of scientific inquiry. You medical types like protocols based on averages. I'm my own case. And I wanted to see where I was at in my personal recovery, not the theoretical timeline that includes cancer patients and freaked out organ donors. I'm young, healthy, and well-above average levels of fitness. I did six miles this morning. And yeah, it was too much and I feel like garbage now, but Steve should clear me for at least limited duty when I go in on Monday. And that's what I'm going to tell him."

She gave him a long look. "You want to go to Chicago with Jack next week and chase that lead on Murdoc."

Mac nodded. "I'm going. One way or another. My plan, my tech. My partner." His expression softened. "We can't have any kind of life until Murdoc's not a threat, until his new organization gets taken down, Melody."

She smiled this time and took his hand, "I know. But since I don't work there anymore and can't actively rat you out to the doc, do me a favor and actually be honest when you go in for your check-up and try to bully your way back onto the duty roster."

He smirked, "You'll just blab when he comes over later to play cards anyway. Jack and Sarah are coming home today and you know poker night has to happen because Jack won't be able to resist telling tales of how much winning he did on their long weekend in Vegas. You should play this time and fleece him out of some of his cash as recompense for the diapers you changed this weekend anyway."

She shook her head. "You guys talk shop and if I listen to the kind of stuff you guys get up to when I'm not around I'm going to wind up greyer than Jack. I don't even want to hear old stories. I left because I don't want to know that stuff anymore, Mac," she said, her expression suddenly serious again, as her eyes wandered away from his face.

"Hey," his gaze found hers and held it. "I told you before, once Murdoc is out of the way … we'll figure out something new. I don't know what that'll be yet, but no more losing pieces of organs to bullets and you crying yourself to sleep and …"

"And Jack … Don't forget Jack crying himself to sleep."

"That either," he grinned. "Speaking of Jack …" He watched her playing with the ring on the chain around her neck. "You think maybe it's time we said something? I mean, it's been over a month. Feels like we should maybe make an announcement. Unless you don't want to," he hurried to add.

She felt herself flush a little. "I wasn't sure it was really anything to announce. We didn't really talk about it afterward and …"

"And I was pretty medicated?"

"Yeah," she grinned, still holding onto the ring. "And in a lot of pain, and pretty damned vulnerable, and …"

He squeezed her hand to interrupt her.

"I meant it to be official, medicated or any of that other stuff or not. I want you to be Mrs. MacGyver or however you want to … I could be Mr. Sullivan, for all I care. Just no hyphens. My name is already a train wreck." She laughed, just like he was hoping for. "If I'd known you weren't sure about how I felt we could've told Jack and Sarah to get someone else to babysit and gone to Vegas with them for the weekend and eloped."

She slid closer to him on the couch and gently wrapped her arms around him, knowing that his bulldog-like determination to get back into the field probably had him feeling pretty beat up at the moment. "Well, then, yes, again. Officially. And I'd love to tell them. Also, we get to tell them that Freddie's started walking. Look."

Fred was, in fact taking tentative steps in her playpen, grinning from ear to ear.

"Not to ruin the romance here, but that face means that not only is she walking, there is a critical diaper situation to deal with," Mac pointed out.

"So, you're the baby person. Change her diaper."

"But, see, my side really hurts from running, because I didn't listen to the very smart nurse in my life who loves me and just officially agreed to be my wife and let me tell the world, or at least the guy who will loudly announce it to everyone for us."

"You are a terrible brat and someday karma is going to catch up with you."

"Maybe. I run pretty fast, even with the leftovers from a big damn hole in my side."

0-0-0

When Jack and Sarah got back a few hours later, Mac and Mel's announcement took a brief backburner to the very big news that Jack and Sarah had, in fact, taken the long weekend in Vegas to do exactly what Mac had told Mel they should have. That, in itself, came as no real surprise to Mac. He'd suspected that if Jack was ever presented with the opportunity to make Sarah Mrs. Dalton, he'd take it, from the day he'd marched Jack out of the church where even he could sense that Sarah was making a huge mistake. No, not a mistake, Mac chided himself, glancing at Fred bouncing in the playpen and showing off like she was on _America's Got Talent_ , because they all got to know Fred because of it, but certainly a detour in life that cost her and Jack more pain than either of them deserved.

The reason, however, had been enough to make an already tired and not necessarily feeling up to snuff Mac sit down hard. Jack had clapped him on the back (gently, almost overly conscious of the fact that Mac was still hurt, and Mac had a sudden suspicion that Mel had texted Jack about his boneheaded morning exertions and he couldn't even be mad about it) and asked him how he felt about being an honorary big brother.

"I, uh, you ... Good?" He half asked, half grinned. "You work fast, Dalton."

Sarah smiled lightly, almost blushing, and she picked Fred up out of the playpen and squeezed her like she hadn't seen her in a million years. "Or, you know, we're both bad at math." Then she grinned. "But neither of us is unhappy about it! Well, I'm still a little unhappy about it first thing in the morning, but … If history repeats itself that'll wear off pretty quick."

Jack looked a little solemn then. "Mac, I would really have liked for you to stand up with me, but …"

"Jack, I'm happy for you. And I appreciate the thought." His smile said it all. The he added. "How the hell is Punchy doing?"

"How'd you know ..?"

"No way you went to Vegas to get married on the fly and didn't look up the guy who's half the reason either of us are still around to make any kind of promise. Hope you hugged the big ginge for me."

Jack actually swallowed hard and his eyes misted over. "He was real good, Mac. He'd love to see ya. His wife and kids came, too. Nicky was in town, too visiting his old squad so they could all meet his missus and he stood up with me, so …"

"So, you had family," Mac said, surprised all of a sudden to hear the nearness of the tears in his voice, but feeling the smile stretch his face nonetheless.

"Yeah." Jack said, unsurprised by the tightness in his own.

Sensing a meeting of the minds of a military nature, something she saw more often than not with these two, Mel suggested to Sarah that she help her move Fred upstairs to her, or was that her and Jack's, place? Her and Jack's, Sarah answered, smiling. The executive accommodations were rather nice so they'd probably avail themselves of them until they decided to move on from Phoenix. The rise at the end of her sentence indicated that one or both of them leaving at some point was something they'd already discussed. Mel's eyes had cut to Mac's face then and she'd just nodded at him. He'd smiled, appreciating that she was silently telling him she knew he wanted to tell Jack their news privately now.

After the three ladies headed upstairs, Jack settled on the couch next to Mac. "I really would have liked for you to be there, but …"

"But she sprung the news you were gonna be a dad on you and you guys just made a snap decision." He grinned.

Jack shook his head, jaw working in a way that made Mac's own tighten a little. "No; now we've already covered this a time or two. I already have the honor of being a dad. Even if it's only once in a while when you need me to be. And I'm truly honored to be your big brother and favorite pain in the ass the rest of the time."

Mac ran a hand over his eyes. "God damn it, Jack."

"Sorry, kid," Jack blinked a few times himself. "I didn't mean to get us both leakin' at the eyes, but it's been a rough go for a while now, and I think it's time we slowed down and maybe celebrated the good stuff." He paused. This was probably the perfect time to tell him. "And maybe talked over what the future holds. The rosy and the not so rosy."

Mac looked hard into Jack's eyes, his overly glossy, almost hard, but he was sort of smiling too. "Jack, I've asked Melody to marry me."

Mac found himself wrapped in a classic Dalton bear hug. "Mac, ah, Mac that's just, congratulations, kid. I'm so happy for you."

"Ow. Thanks, Big guy, but … Ow. I, um …"

"Sorry, kid. I forgot you were the world's first dumbass and went for an unauthorized run this mornin'," Jack drawled.

Mac looked away. Yup, Mel had told on him. "Yeah, not my best idea … But," he looked almost pleadingly at Jack.

"Don't you worry, kid. I am not going after Murdoc without you. I already talked to the doc before I came over here tonight. No card game. You're gettin' some rest. If that cute nurse that's gonna be your missus and I have to wrestle you into your bed. But come Monday, he'll give you the green light for the mission on my word that you're okay. Because I know you need it as much as I do. We both got a future ridin' on it. A future that don't necessarily have this job, or some psycho gunnin' for us or ours as part of it."

Uncharacteristically, Mac found himself wrapping his arms around Jack in a fierce hug, and even though his side protested the gesture, he didn't let up. "Thanks, Jack."

"I gotchu, kid. Always."

Mac pulled away, dragging the back of his hand over his face. "I hope this goes without saying, and we don't plan on anything big or elaborate, but would you be my Best Man?"

Jack grinned at him, not even bothering to wipe away what were mostly happy tears that their lives were finally lining up the way he'd always hoped for both of them, and ignoring the warning tightness in the pit of his stomach that there was still danger ahead. "Angus Henry MacGyver, it would be my genuine pleasure to stand up with you on that day." Mac smiled then, an expression so open, so sunny, all the years, the suffering Jack knew the young man had known since they had met, hell, since he was a boy, seemed to fall away, and Jack added, "Shoot, I've been workin' on the toast since the first time I walked in on you and Mel kissin'."

Mac didn't say anything, just started laughing, a sound, in that moment, as young and carefree as his face looked.


	45. Chapter 45

It was vaguely strange for Jack to wake up in the big bed on the penthouse floor of the Phoenix apartment complex. It was quiet. He'd gotten used to first waking up to the sounds of Bozer playing Pop 2k on their satellite radio too loud while he cooked breakfast and Mac crashing back into the house from his run, then to just Mac rattling around making coffee and doing some sort of unspeakable modification to their toaster in an effort to get it to cook anything as well as Bozer had using the proper kitchen equipment. Sarah and Fred were already gone for the day, one with the nanny for some sort of baby swim class that Jack didn't see the point of, and the other to the office.

The _'See you at the briefing_ ' followed by a little heart scrawled on the note she left him under the insulated mug where she'd fixed his coffee made him grin like a teenager. He never thought he'd be in one of those couples that left each other notes or sent dumb sweet little texts all day, but they'd sort of started doing that a couple of months ago when her divorce came through, and he thought that in the couple days since they'd tied the knot, they'd taken it to a competitive sport-type level.

He was still enjoying the hell out of calling her Mrs. Dalton at every available opportunity and she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she'd gone out of her was to say "husband" to at least three random store clerks since getting home, and pretty much everybody who brought them food or drink the whole time they were in Vegas. They both seemed to acknowledge without saying it out loud that they should have done it a long time ago, and they were making up for lost time now. That was so them. He sipped at his coffee, showered, dressed, and was thinking about heading downstairs to see if Mac was up, when the unmistakable crisp double knock hit his front door.

He opened the door, took one look at his partner, and made his most disapproving expression as he crossed back over to their breakfast bar and sat on his stool, giving Mac his back for a minute to let the kid contemplate just how transparent he was. "You goin' for a run and gettin' yourself in trouble with Melody this weekend just wasn't enough for you, huh? Doc's only gonna clear you for Chicago if you don't actually look like you're gonna drop dead."

Mac ignored him and just crossed to the coffee pot and got himself a cup of coffee before joining jack at the counter. "I only did three miles this morning. And I didn't throw up this time, so that's progress."

Jack shook his head, "Guess it doesn't merit yelling at you if Mel didn't get through your thick head this morning."

Mac actually laughed. "Mel isn't home. Job interview. I'm stubborn, not crazy."

"Don't forget ridiculous," Jack teased. "Stubborn _and_ ridiculous. And I think crazy applies too if you're already pushing yourself to run. Three month recovery time, kid. It's been a month and a half. You are not super-human."

"Says you," Mac grinned again, deflecting Jack's concern. When Jack just raised an eyebrow at him, he shook his head and said dismissively, "That's a recovery _range_ , Jack."

Mac didn't like the very serious look Jack was giving him.

"Jack, I'm fine."

Finally, Jack answered. "Mac, I'm gonna be real here for a second." Mac resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was a reaction he often had when people worried over him and he was trying really hard to stop. "You always say 'I'm fine'. You always push just a little harder than everybody around you to do the job, to see it through, to not need anything, but …"

"So do you!" he said defensively, getting up and pouring out his coffee into the sink, suddenly feeling like continuing to drink it would be a terrible idea.

Jack nodded, almost sadly, and he didn't meet Mac's eyes when he said, "You're right." He swallowed hard. He'd tried to bring it up a couple of times, but had found ways to change the subject, or just reasons that the moment wasn't right, but now seemed like a good time. "I've been the same way. I'd say I've been a bad example, but you were like that when I metcha, too. But, Mac, you're smarter than me. A lot smarter."

Mac waved him off and gave another crooked grin. He was in no mood for a big brother, or worse, a disapproving dad speech this morning. "Don't give me one of your 'Don't grow up to be like me, kid' speeches, Jack. Because I think we've established that I don't believe for a minute that you've ever grown up."

"Now, Mac, listen, damnit, I'm tryin' ta tell you somethin' important here … And it ain't easy. So shut up a minute and let me get the words out."

Mac sat back down next to him again and reached out and put his hand on Jack's arm that was resting on the counter. "Hey, man, I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"I was as big a stubborn dumbass as you for mosta my life. And now, I'm lookin' at mandatory retirement. Mandatory. Soon." Mac's mouth dropped open a little. Jack elaborated reluctantly. "Shoulder didn't rehab the way to shoulda. Too much damage, too many times, too damned old, I guess."

Mac could see the revelation was nearly physically painful for his partner. He squeezed his arm and tried to catch his eye. When Jack still wasn't looking at him, he offered, "Shit, I'm sorry Jack. Why didn't you say anything?"

Jack sniffed, like he was almost but not quite ready to shed a tear. "I didn't even know how to tell you. This morning seems like you needed a cautionary tale." This time his dark eyes met Mac's blue ones and the barest hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

Mac smiled back in the same reserved way. "I guess it's not bad with the baby on the way anyway, man. I'd get real grouchy with you if you tried to stay a field ops guy with a little Jack running around."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed, momentarily distracted from his point about Mac's own well-being.

Mac had a sort of faraway look for a moment. "How soon do you think they'll pull the plug on your authorization?"

This time Jack grinned, "I'm staying until we get Murdoc. I made Steve promise he'd help me baby it along that far. Soon as we take him out though, and I know we're all safe, I'm gonna bow out and do … we'll I don't know what yet. Might be a stay-at-home dad for a little while."

Something in Mac seemed to be cut loose and his shoulders relaxed visibly. He even held his head for a minute like he'd suddenly been relieved of a terrible burden.

"Mac, buddy, you okay? That run you took knock somethin' loose? Steve's already expectin' you soon anyway. We could leave now."

Mac smiled at him. "I'm sorry about your shoulder, Jack, I am, but … I've been tying myself into knots about how I was going to tell you …" He trailed off.

"Tell me what, kiddo?"

"After we get Murdoc, I'm out, too."

"You?" Jack's eyes widened in surprise. "It's not just because you're getting married is it? Because if you leave a thing you're great at because of a relationship …"

Mac shook his head. "I'm tired, Jack. Of all of it. How many betrayals this last couple of years. How many times my house got broken into or trashed. Then Bozer almost got killed. You, my dad … Hell, I'm not even gonna go into how sick I am of waking up in Medical because you already know. And it's not the only way I know how to help people now, to make a difference. If nothing else I've got the Challenger Club now. I feel so bad about cancelling on those kids because I got shot and then I had to lie about it … And …" he trailed off again.

"And maybe you're thinking you'd like to see a couple little Anguses running around here too before very long?"

Mac smacked Jack on the arm. "Ugh, no." Then he laughed. "We haven't really talked about kids yet, but if we do have any, Angus is off the table, even as a middle name. For your offspring, too Dalton. I see that gleam in your eye."

Jack laughed. "It's gettin' late. Shall we go tell our favorite doc a little white lie about how awesome you feel and about how well you've been following recovery orders so you can come with me to Chi-town and get the beginning of this goddamned end show on the road?"

Mac got up and grabbed his coat. "Angus is not an option, Jack."

"I heard ya, I heard ya."

"I mean it, Jack. Promise me you will never do that to a kid."

"Well, now a soldier's promise is his solemn bond and …"

Mac gave him a deadly serious look that he usually saved for bomb disposal. "Fine. No babies named Angus. But if it's girl, could I name her Agnes? It's not the same thing."

"No," Mac walked off toward the elevator refusing to further dignify Jack's teasing, but glad this conversation hadn't been as heavy as he'd feared when he first started thinking about telling Jack he wanted to leave Phoenix. They both had an exit plan. Well, not a plan, but they were forming one. What happened next in Chicago would guide their next steps, he was sure of it.


	46. Chapter 46

Mac was wedged into one corner of the couch talking quietly on his phone. Jack was doing his best to give the man some privacy, but the jet wasn't exactly great for that. Besides Mac's wry smile was sort of priceless, and part of him just couldn't help listening a little to see what was causing it.

"Of course not, Melody. I think that's great. If it's what you want to be doing." A pause, a quiet chuckle that Jack recognized as Mac about to say something self-deprecating. "I appreciate that. But I'm hoping we won't have to worry about it much longer anyway … I know … I will … Love you, too."

When he ended the call he glanced at Jack who couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"What?"

" _You_ having the 'be careful' phone call."

"She knows me too well for that Jack. She said be smart."

"I guess maybe she does know you a little." Jack laughed. "How'd her interview go?"

Mac shook his head. "It was less of an interview and more of a diabolical plot apparently." He raised an eyebrow wondering if Jack would guess.

"She did not go back to Phoenix already."

Mac laughed. "She sort of did. I'm trying to pretend that Matty didn't get the recruiter for the civilian division to call her. Front office, wellness clinic for the think tank wing."

"I can see the appeal for her," Jack shrugged. "On the surface, it's some distance from what you do. And she's moved into the world of company physicals and handing out band aids for paper cuts. But she knows, if you ever really needed her, Matty wouldn't hesitate to get on the phone and tell her to get her ass over to Building Two."

Mac gave a small smile. "That's sort of what she said, too. And it's only a couple of days a week. She can do other things. I think …" he trailed off, looking more sad than anything else.

"What's a matter, kid?" Jack knew the look.

Mac gave him a half smile that Jack knew all too well. The kid was way up in his own head; not a good place to be before they hit the ground in Chicago. At least he looked ready to talk instead of just say 'nothing' and pretend to sleep, the old avoid Jack's prying when stuck on a plane strategy. "I think on the one hand after being the nurse on the spot when we came in from Belarus … She couldn't stand knowing. Then after she sat with not knowing, being cut off from it completely, that was worse."

He looked at his hands for a minute, fidgeting with a paperclip, something he hadn't done in a long time.

"And," Jack prodded gently.

"I'm just … I'm ready for it to be over. You know? She shouldn't have to think like that."

Jack pressed his lips together hard for a minute waiting for the feeling that he was going to tear up to pass. That was not the Jack his partner needed right now. After a minute he spoke, and his voice didn't sound as okay as he wanted it to, but it wasn't as raw as it could have been, so he'd take it. "Ah, I don't know, Mac. Maybe that's how you know it's a thing that's last, that'll work for you. You and I been makin' stupid career decisions because …" He stopped and swallowed. "Because we care about each other and won't leave the other hangin' for about a decade now. Seems to me like that's a sure sign she really gets you, really fits into your life, whatever that looks like after we're done here."

"That's you telling me you really like her, I mean, as in with me." Mac sort of stammered. Then he grinned, determined to lighten things up. It was getting to be time to get their game faces on one way or another. "That feels a little like fatherly approval and I thought we agreed that you only get to dad me when I ask."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Jack chuckled. "But yeah, I like you guys together. She's good for you. And I think you're good for her. She's gotten you to maybe slow down and see the forest for the trees and you've maybe softened up some of her hard edges."

Mac laughed. "A little. Not all of them though. Don't tell her I said so, but when I was home after Belarus she was laying on the bossy and mean pretty hard. I started my own sort of 'swear jar' and put money in it every time I wanted to just call her out."

"Payin' for the honeymoon with it, are ya?"

"Pretty much." He smiled in a distant sort of way, fond and unfocused. "I don't know why I bothered. Doesn't seem to bother her to call me stubborn and ridiculous."

"Maybe because you know she just cares about you and is a nurse and they are all like that a little so you shouldn't hold it against her, and you know when she calls you out she's just being honest."

Mac shook his head, grinning. "Shut up, Jack."

Before their pilot could announce it, Jack picked up on some silent signal from the jet. "We're starting our approach. You ready for this?"

"Final round? Yeah. I really am."

"Me, too, kid. Hope our local contact knows what he's gettin' himself into."

"Me, too. We've got back-up no matter what though."

Mac tipped his chin toward Todd and Steve who were doing the smart thing and napping on the other side. There were a couple of younger agents along for the ride as well, talking quietly toward the back. Matty knew about Jack's shoulder and his plans to retire from the field at some point in the near future, but Mac hadn't said anything to her about his own plans. She was no fool though. Mac thought maybe she was hoping these two agents might just pick up a trick or two before he and Jack bowed out. That was good. Someone was going to have to force Matty to write complicated justifications to Oversight when things didn't go to plan and Molly Briggs and her partner Chuck Nguyen seemed like they might be good for that.

Jack was looking at him with a half-smile. "Remember when all we had was us for back up?" Mac half expected Jack to wax nostalgic, but instead he gave a rueful little laugh. "I don't miss that at all."

Mac nodded. "Me either. But one way or another something tells me you'll always be the guy to have my six."

"Damn straight kid. That line might have made it into the toast," he raised his eyebrows indicating that there was already a fair amount of toast written. "When do I get to deliver my epic best man wishes anyway? Ain't you big chickens set a date yet?"

"I have promised to come home without any new bullet holes and if I keep my promise, we're gonna set a date as soon as I can tell Melody we've really finally got Murdoc on the ropes."

"Good. 'Cause honestly, I'm a married man now, so the minute I retire I think I might let myself get fat. So, don't wait too long. I want one last James Bond tux moment with my gal before I let myself go."

Mac just laughed. Jack was much too restless a guy to ever really do anything of the kind. "We're hoping maybe Christmas?" He actually blushed a little. Jack concealed a smile. Damned if the kid didn't still look like the almost teenager he'd first met in that godforsaken cave. "I mean because that was when … I mean, we held hands for the first time then and …"

"That's real sweet, Mac," Jack interrupted. "It suits you guys."

The sound of the landing gear descending caught their attention. Mac took out his phone and sent a text, glancing up at Jack. "Reaffirming my no-new-bullet-holes promise."

"I love it when you turn over a new leaf, kid."

Mac smirked at tossed Jack the paperclip he'd been fiddling with during the flight. Jack made a face like Mac had tossed him a spider. "You tryin' to curse me or something, bud? 'Cause I recognize this weird thing from the walls in Cairo."

"It's called ouroboros, Jack. And it _is_ Egyptian." Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow and Mac's grin spread. "Atum was the god who came from the chaos of the River Nun and he was born from that chaos to renew himself every morning."

"Okaaay," Jack waved his hand for Mac to go ahead and try to make sense.

"It's a symbol for overcoming chaos. Of rebirth, new life, starting over. We do this right and that's what we get Jack. A new life for all of us. And you get to enjoy those little Jacks running around like you've always wanted to."

"Oh, ho. You brought up Cairo. You broke a solemn vow. I can name one Angus if I really want to now."

"No, you most certainly cannot." Mac threw his most severe don't-you-dare glare at his partner. "And Cairo is just a thing that happened, Jack. Just like Afghanistan, like Belarus. Just stories. We do this right and Cairo doesn't have any power anymore anyways."

Jack put the little sculpture in his pocket like a good luck charm. "Alright. New beginning starts today. New stories."

"Exactly, man."

Mac was checking his phone, smiling at whatever response Melody had sent to him. Jack was texting Sarah, checking on her and Fred, and the baby to be named later. He didn't even look at Mac when they touched down, but he said, "Your mama thought that Angus was a perfectly nice name."

Mac tried to glare at him but wound up laughing instead. "Shut up, Jackass."


	47. Chapter 47

Their local FBI connection was clearly getting under Jack's skin. Mac knew his partner didn't like anything about this set up. The adjoining motel rooms looked like something out of the X-files, according to Jack anyway. The case files were incomplete and sloppy, and the supposed sightings of Murdoc that had gotten them here didn't quite ring true to Jack. He was jumpy, and grouchy. And Mac realized he'd probably made it worse by making light of Cairo on the plane.

"Jack, the intel seems solid to me," he tried for probably the fifth time.

"Well it don't to me," Jack grumbled, flopping down on the harder than average motel bed with an open folder. "What kinda backward-assed Wal-mart spy school did this dumbass come from?" he groused.

Mac grinned and shook his head. "No kinda spy school, and you know it. Quantico is more like a souped-up police academy. And profilers are …" Mac trailed off. Jack got irritated when Mac said what he really thought about this sort of thing.

"Profilers are what?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I know you think that it's a cool job and whatever, Jack … And I know you have a psych degree … but …"

"Go ahead and say it, Mac."

"It's not even close to objective. At best it's based on the worst kind of soft science."

"Mac, I know I've said this before but people," Jack paused giving Mac a very sympathetic look.

"Are mostly soft." Mac finished. Then he smirked. "In the head."

"Hey," Jack cautioned. "Therapy helped you, Mr. Science Guy."

Mac shook his head. "I keep telling you guys, that's trademarked. And I guess it did. I mean, sometimes it did. Sometimes talking about it made it worse though. So, I don't know."

Jack's expression softened. "Does it help when you talk to Mel?"

Mac nodded, checking his phone. "Usually. Helps when I talk to you, too." His face sort of scrunched for a second and it was expression that made Jack glad they were alone at the moment. "Jack, I …"

"What is it, bud?"

Mac blinked a few times and swallowed hard, looking out the window, rather than at Jack. When his eyes returned to his partner's face, his expression was serious. "When this is over, we're not just gonna disappear on each other, right? I mean, I know we have these lives we're going to have these families and God … I want that for both of us … Just so damned much … But … I want my family that I already have, too."

"You know your family is always gonna be around, Mac. You're lucky Boze even moved out when he got married. Ri is never goin' too far away from her adopted big brother. And hey, you got real lucky and your dad is back in your life and …"

"No," Mac shook his head, almost stubbornly, knowing it made him both look and sound very young, and not particularly caring at the moment. "You know what I mean, Jackass." Mac's overly bright blue eyes bored into Jack's dark ones. "I want my dad; my real dad, the guy who's always there when it matters, who also happens to be my big brother, and my best friends, and the world's biggest pain in the ass."

"Shit dude, you tryin' to make me cry right before shit gets real on this op."

Mac sniffed, dashing an unbidden tear away from one eye quickly, with no comment. "No. Just I spent a long time, hell, forever, never saying what needed saying. I'm done with that. I plan on finishing Murdoc. I plan on going home and making an amazing life with Melody. I plan on curly haired babies even though Mel isn't sure that's a great idea yet. I plan on maybe changing kids' lives as a job. But those plans sound a lot less great if the plan means I lose you. That's all I'm saying."

"You can't get rid a me, even if you try, Angus."

"Goddamn it Dalton, what have we talked about?"

"I'm just tryin' to get you to hear how pretty your name is for when I steal it for my new kid. My grown up one doesn't appreciate his mom's good taste." Mac smiled. He thought Jack would have loved his mom. She doted on him and fussed over him and gave him a good natured hard time to get him out of his own head a lot, too. Jack continued, "Since I basically plan on talking Sarah into buying a house up the block from you and your about-to-be-missus, you're gonna hear it a lot." Jack sat down next to Mac and slung an arm around his shoulder.

"No kids named Angus," Mac tried to sound serious, but it had lost a lot of the heat it used to have.

"What's really eatin' you, kid?" Jack pulled him closer to his side.

"I want to finish this," Mac nodded, like he was trying to convince himself more than anything else. "I want a normal life." He glanced up at Jack's face and was met with a soft encouraging smile. "But Jack … Jesus … I've been doing this … We've been doing this, since I was still basically a kid."

"You were a kid," Jack affirmed. "Scared the hell out of me when I got a look at you in that cave I was like 'when the hell did Uncle Sam start lettin' middle schoolers enlist."

"Screw you," Mac gave him a playful shove.

"We'll figure it out, kid. Sarah and Mel are part of the life too. We'll figure it out, together."

Mac nodded, smiling a real warm smile and spontaneously hugging his partner, something he did not do often unless they were in fairly extreme circumstances. "I think we will."

Both their phones chirped simultaneously.

Jack sighed. "Phase One of Operation End Game is a go. You ready, kid?"

Mac nodded slowly, "Let's go get the bastard."


	48. Chapter 48

_A/N - So I know it's been a while, but I haven't forgotten this AU._

"You know what?" Jack's voice came over the comm. "I think I've changed my mind. This is a terrible plan."

Mac just kept walking down the street toward the park Murdoc had been frequenting and where Mac had let himself be seen the morning before.

"He's not going to be able to resist and you know it. This is a great plan."

"If you don't get pinched. Or worse."

"That's what you're here for, Big Guy. You suddenly lose confidence in your ability to make a shot?"

"Attacking a sniper's ego is a low blow, man."

"Works every time though."

Jack sighed dramatically to be sure the comms picked it up. "It does."

Mac smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around without being too obvious about it.

"Anybody got eyes on?" he asked, as he took a seat on a bench, feeling his heart rate pick on and doing his level best to ignore it. As he listened to the stream of replies, all of them, "Negative," he began to question the wisdom of the plan. Maybe Murdoc wasn't as fascinated as they thought. Maybe he was up on a roof somewhere, just like Jack was, just waiting to sight up perfectly.

"Hello, Angus," made his stomach drop, despite it being what he'd been hoping for.

Mac turned slowly to the man who'd just joined him on the part bench. "Murdoc," he nodded.

The killer gave him an appraising once over. "I somehow get the feeling that you were expecting me, MacGyver. So I should probably warn you that I have us well supervised."

Briggs voice came over the comms. "No suspicious activity sighted."

Then Riley agreed. "Not from our birds' eye view either, Mac."

Mac shrugged. "Maybe you do. I'm covered, too, so I'm not too worried about it."

"You're bluffing. I've scanned satellite images for the area and you are as alone as alone can be, Angus. I saw the reports from Phoenix that you couldn't go back to work after that last injury. And their concern that you wouldn't let this go even once _they_ let _you_ go."

Mac shifted like he was uncomfortable. "How did you ..?"

"Their cyber-security is really abysmal. You'd think with the little hacker genius you and Dalton pulled into their ranks, things would have improved since Miss Carpenter first left intentional holes in the system, but alas … Maybe she's just not that good."

Mac heard Riley again. "Can Jack please shoot him now?"

"Okay," Mac sighed. "So you know I came here on my own. I wanted to meet."

"So I surmised, dear boy. Ready to play for the winning team, are we?"

Mac shook his head. "But I want to know what it would take to buy my way out from under your … Interest. I'm done with field work. I've got no reason to come after you anymore, and no resources. I'm only thirty. Maybe I'd like a life that has nothing to do with Phoenix, and maybe I know I can't have that if you and your people are still gunning for me and anyone I care about."

"You want to try to buy your way out? Honestly, Angus, I _am_ disappointed …"

"You know me well enough to know that I'm not stupid. I mean what will I have to do for your organization to get you to leave me and my friends alone?"

"Does Dalton know what you're up to?"

Mac's eyes flicked away from Murdoc's face. "No. But he's not coming for you either …"

"Mandatory retirement. I know. You should have done a better job at being his partner, perhaps. I was thinking of just killing him as soon as I know he'd not armed to the teeth, but the idea of him languishing away, bored to tears and slowly dying inside is somehow almost more appealing."

Mac finally heard Jack growl, "Asshole," and had to tamp down hard on the urge to smile (although he wouldn't admit out loud that that was exactly what he worried about with Jack's plan to leave the life).

"If I'll work for you for … six months … Would that buy me my freedom?" Mac swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably as Murdoc's eyes took him in. He was supposed to act uncomfortable. He didn't have to act.

"Hmmm … I would have to see the quality of your work, your level of commitment … But perhaps something could be arranged." He smiled slowly, and Mac's skin broke into gooseflesh.

"Half a deal is a lot better than you shooting me … or you know kidnapping and torturing me … I guess I'll have to take it."

"Lovely." Murdoc stood. "I'll be in touch."

Mac nodded, swallowing hard again. "Well, you know where I live."

"I do. And any deal we make aside, I probably always will. One can't be too careful with boy scouts like you. Never know when you might get a case of buyer's remorse. But you do the work, you'll get paid back in full." Murdoc smiled again, and this time Mac smirked up at him from his seat on the bench. "What?" Murdoc snapped.

"I like payback," Mac said and there was a soft sound as Murdoc's eyes widened and he was pulling a long dart from the spot where his neck and shoulder met.

"You … You …"

"Got one over on you, yeah."

Murdoc started sinking to the ground and Mac got up and stepped away, making room for the small team to converge on their spot and to watch their FBI contact keep civilians away from what was happening. "You just took out a contract on yourself, Angus. And you paid for it in …"

"IQ points?" Mac asked, unable to help saying something snarky. "Like the one's I have to spare because even when you've drugged me to my eyeballs and tortured me? You're never getting back out from underground again, Murdoc."

"My people …" He was trying to talk, but the tranquilizer that had been in the dart was pretty powerful. Mumbled threats continued, but Mac just ignored him and scanned the scene for potential threats, having a hard time believing Murdoc had really come alone like his team believed.

Jack sauntered up to Mac as the others loaded Murdoc into what looked like an ambulance, but was actually a tactical van. "Still running his mouth, is he?"

"Mmmm," Mac answered. "Let's get to the airport. Fast. I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

"Right on, brother. This next leg is the dangerous part anyway."

0-0-0

The trip to the airport was uneventful, apart from Riley reporting on their satellite imaging and tech. "You have a couple of tails, but they're keeping their distance."

Jack glanced at Mac, who just nodded thoughtfully. "Is it working, Ri?"

"Yeah, so far. I've got a good signal."

"Good," was all Mac said until they were on the plane.

When they reached cruising altitude, Jack looked at his partner, who was absently massaging his temples, and broke the silence. "What's eatin' ya bud?"

"This was too easy."  
"We know they're tracking us, kid. That was the whole point of your plan, right?"

Mac sighed, glancing at where their prisoner was unconscious and being guarded by Nguyen and Briggs. "Yeah … just …" he let out a long slow breath from between pursed lips, almost whistling. "Nothing."

"Angus …" Jack said with a mock-warning in his prompting voice.

Mac's eyes rolled and he smiled in spite of himself. "I never realized how crazy half our plans were, Jack. Like, just outright dumb even. I never stopped long enough to think about it. Now, I've got something to lose." He shrugged. "Baiting them to come after us … Sounded better before we actually made it work."

Jack chuckled. "Now you know how I've felt for years, kid."

Mac laughed for a few second and then glanced at Murdoc again. He texted Riley. "Anything in their air? We still good?"

She replied immediately. "Air is clear. Still working as expected. Traffic picking up in LA though."

He showed Jack the reply. "Guess the plan in working." Another text popped up and he read it. "And Matty's got the airport covered."

Jack nodded. "Nice. And I've still got _you_ covered, bud." The reassuring tone and knowing everything was as expected made Mac smile. Jack grinned back, prepared to distract him a little more. "So, tell me more about the kind of wedding I'm giving the speech of a life time at."

Mac shook his head. "Nothing too fancy … But, you know, probably dressy. Her parents are already a little pissed we're not doing the church thing, so …"

Talking about their plans for the future covered their tension about the mission, but it didn't do much to dissipate it.


	49. Chapter 49

They knew it was coming before they even got off the plane. Riley had let them know about the extra traffic on the ground at and near the airport and Matty had been talking their ears off as soon as the comms were back to active at touchdown. Murdoc was loaded into a transport that left the airport first. Mac and Jack followed in one of the other Phoenix vehicles. "You ready for this, bud?"

Mac nodded. "Yeah."

"You wearin' a vest like we agreed?" was asked a little less casually.

Mac shook his head. "Yes. Are you?"

"Damn right I am. I got somethin' to lose now, too," he said; but Jack was grinning like a kid now. As far as he was concerned this was when things were going to get good.

When the motorcade was attacked, it was with lightning speed and precision. Phoenix did a fair job of fighting to hang onto the prisoner, while minimizing the damage to their team. Jack lost track of his partner in the brief fight, but as LAPD converged on them and the smoke cleared, he called out over the comms, "Mac, where you at?"

It took Mac a second to answer. "Still by the SUV."

"You okay, you sound …"

"Like my luck is holding right where it has been?" Mac asked, then hissed through his teeth.

Jack broke into a jog. "What happened?"

"Um, they all had guns, so you could safely conclude …"

"God damnit, Mac, are we really at the joking about being shot stage of …" Jack rounded the SUV and Mac was sitting on the runner beside the passenger door, cutting away his pantleg. Jack didn't wait. "Steve, what's your twenty, man? Mac's been getting in the way of the bad guys again."

"How bad?"

Mac answered before Jack could even get close enough for a look. "Not bad. It was a graze. I just made sure. Ugly and on the deep side, but …"

"Copy. Milton can't say the same."

"Shit. Is it ..?"

"He'll live. Move out and get your ass to the infirmary. They're expecting us."

Mac took off the flannel he was wearing and wrapped it tightly around the wound. Then he got up, using the side of the vehicle for support. Jack moved to help him. "You driving, Big Guy?"

"We've got ambulances comin' so …"

Mac opened the passenger door. "First of all, no. And second of all, you'll get us to Phoenix faster anyway."

Jack helped his partner climb in to minimize the weight he was putting on his leg, which Jack was pleased to see wasn't bleeding all that badly since it hadn't soaked through the shirt wrapped around it. "Probably true."

"Definitely true." Mac pulled the door closed. When Jack got in on the other side he heard Mac talking to Riley. "… signal's still good?"

"Yeah, they're on the move toward the Valley, right where we suspected they were operating out of," came over the speaker phone.

"What about the biometrics ..?"

"Your chip is still in your bad guy, Mac. This is gonna work."

"Alright. Keep me posted."

"Yeah, you too, Mac. Is it bad?"

"I haven't heard," Mac answered. "I know Steve is heading out, expecting Milton to need surgery."

"I meant you, Genius," Riley said, teasing, but concerned too. "I repeat, is it bad?"

"Nah, even Jack's not freaking out much," he answered, throwing his partner a grin.

"But it's tempting, Ri. We'll be in touch." Mac ended the call in time to avoid Riley hearing him swear when the SUV jerked into motion.

Jack maneuvered around some of the disabled vehicles and started taking every short cut he knew to Phoenix. Once Mac was with those more qualified to clean up his leg, Jack asked if he was okay on his own for a little bit so he could go find out how their teammate was doing and check on other aspects of the op.

Mac told him 'of course'. Then he looked a little worried. "You sure, bud, 'cause I can stay if you need …"

"Go on, Jack. Check on Milton and everything. I'm just thinking about Mel. Broke my promise pretty fast."

"What promise?"

"The no new bullet holes promise."

Jack grinned. "Technically that's not a hole."

Mac grimaced as the medic taking care of him started cleaning the wound, then he returned Jack's grin. "That's a hell of a good point."

0-0-0

"Mac, thank God."

Mac's eyes had been closed and he'd been lying down to let the medic deal with his leg, but his head snapped up at the sound of her voice and he pushed himself up on his elbows. She dropped a bag in one of the chairs against the wall. She was pink cheeked and out of breath. She'd run over here from the other building he was pretty sure. "Hey, what're you doing here?" he asked, forcing himself to sound casual, like seeing her was just a pleasant surprise, like he wasn't sitting on a gurney in his underwear with someone sewing up his leg.

She took a second to just catch her breath. "All I heard was that you'd been shot. You broke the no new bullet holes rule pretty damned quick."

Yeah, he knew she was going to say that. Fortunately, Jack had given him the idea for how to play it. He was hoping she'd think it was cute. "It's just a graze," he shrugged. "So technically …"

"Don't get you pedantic with me, Angus MacGyver!"

He looked sufficiently embarrassed that he'd tried it, and said, "Sorry, it was Jack's idea."

"Because Jack Dalton is the idea man in your partnership?"

She tried to sound annoyed, but couldn't even fake it. She was too relieved to even play at arguing. She was around the other side of the table in a flash, holding his face with one hand, kissing him like it had been a decade since she'd seen him. It was a very welcome distraction. Then he jumped a little and accidentally bit her lip.

"Ow," they said at the same time.

"Sorry," he said, really looking it. Then, he looked up at the guy working on his leg. "That's not numb at all, so if you could ..?"

"Sorry about that. I thought we were good."

Mac shrugged. "Stuff wears off fast on me. Who knows why?" He was reasonably grateful to have Mel there to look at. Otherwise he knew his face would be scrunched up like a kid. As it was, he was so glad things had mostly gone according to plan and that she was here that he was mostly able to ignore the medic finishing up. "I thought you were supposed to be sort of removed from this side of things now," he chided with amusement.

"Maybe I'm just getting as bad at following rules as you are."

"I think I'm okay with being a bad influence."

There was a knock at the door. "Yeah," he medic called out.

"It's Dalton."

"Come in, Jack," Mac said.

Jack did, cautious about how wide he opened the door, and about looking in the general direction of Mac's leg. He started in surprise. "Hey there, Mel. What are you doin' here? Did our boy actually call you and fess up about bein' here?"

Mel grinned. "Mac was about to start being smug about being a bad influence and getting me to be a rule breaker."

Jack put an arm around her. "I don't know, Mac. I think maybe Mel's been a good influence on you. You know, about following the rules."

Mac frowned. "Meaning?"

Mel started snickering about how offended he looked at the idea of following the rules. Jack squeezed her around the shoulders and she could feel that he was trying not to laugh now, too. "You reported your injury, were honest with the doc on the scene, came straight here …"

"Hasn't given me shit the whole time I've been treating him," the medic chimed in.

Mac glared at the younger man. "You be quiet. I've never given you shit before."

"Yeah, but we all get warned about you two. Ms. Sullivan always made sure of it."

Mel laughed. "Thanks for ratting me out to my fiancé, Tyler. You're lucky this isn't my infirmary anymore."

Tyler laughed too. "Yes, ma'am. Probably am." He started bandaging up his patient, thinking he'd be happy to wrap things up before he got to see the patient described in the notes on his chart (that his former boss spent a year complaining about before she'd been assigned to his team).

Mac looked at Jack, who still had an arm around Mel. "How's Milton?"

"Todd's gonna be fine, kid. No other major injuries either. A few like yours, but that was the worst of it."

"And the mission?"

"Moving forward as planned. We got 'em on the ropes, kid."

Mac nodded, looking a little serious for a minute. Tyler said, "You're all set, sir. I'll get your discharge instructions and meds and be back in ten."

Mac looked from Jack to Mel as the medic let himself out. "So … um … Awkward question." They both smiled at him, already knowing what he was going to say. "Either one of you bring me some new pants?"

The answers, "Who do you think you're marrying?" and "What kinda partner you take me for?" came almost at the same moment as they both turned to get the bags they'd come in with.

He answered both non-serious questions at once, just a little seriously, although he was smiling as he spoke. "Only the best."


	50. Chapter 50

Mac came through the door, grinning and carrying a carefully wrapped box. Mel turned from washing her hands after feeding the cat and gave him a very approving smile. "How do they look?"

"Very official. I still think the whole 'Save the Date' thing is a little bit of overkill, but …"

"But _you_ don't want to argue with my mother and father either?"

Mac's grin spread. "At least they're on the other coast. And they ought to be so happy about spending Christmas out here for the wedding where the weather doesn't suck that they'll forget to be pissed at how informal it's gonna be."

He put their box of cards, invitations, and thank you notes on the kitchen table and held out his arms for the expected and altogether welcome embrace. Mel wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him before asking, "So, how's the leg? What did the PT say?"

"That you're not allowed to yell at me when I go for a run tomorrow because that's what she wants me to start doing next."

Mel pulled away and led him in to their sofa. "Did you mention that you've already been doing that all week?"

"It didn't come up," he smirked. "Has Jack been by?"

"No; why?"

"I haven't heard from him and I texted him around when I'd be home. I was half expecting him to be here since I told him we had a surprise."

"Yeah, I have a mighty need to see his face when we give him our official 'we've set a date' announcement. His expression was too cute when we told him we'd officially moved in together. Dad-mode is imminent, I think. And I suspect he's going to be worse than my parents."

Mac chuckled. "There are worse problems to have than people who love you worrying over your wedding plans, I suppose."

Mel was quiet for a few minutes. "You don't think this is all premature, do you?"

He squeezed her around her shoulders. "Getting cold feet on me, Nurse Sullivan?"

She elbowed him playfully, but then looked into his eyes with some seriousness. "I know we said we'd set the date when you knew you had Murdoc on the ropes … And I'm glad that you got him there and the worst thing that happened was a bullet graze that gave me an excuse to move in so I could wait on you a little … But what if he's still out there at Christmas, Mac? What if you don't catch him, and he does something …"

"Hey," one hand cupped her cheek. "We'll take him down for good, Melody. And soon. We know where he is all the time now. He's not in custody yet because Phoenix is picking apart his creepy league of assassins. Once Oversight gives us the go ahead, we'll bring him in."

She sighed. She wanted to believe that everything would work out okay, but Murdoc had been responsible for so much hurt in their lives in the past couple of years that even feeling hopeful about their future made her also feel vaguely panicked. And when he was awake, Mac was as reassuring as ever about things, but she wondered if he even realized how often his dreams betrayed his own worry.

Instead of voicing that, she just snuggled against his chest, refraining from commenting on how he was massaging his thigh. Mona must have been feeling particularly sadistic today, since he rarely came home from physical therapy sore at this stage of the game. Wanting to distract him from that discomfort, as well as wanting to talk in a more cheerful way about their plans, she asked, "Have you told your father that we set a date yet?"

Mac shrugged. "Nah. I wanted to tell Jack and your folks and … He's pretty good about reading his mail; we can just send him one of the cards like everybody else."

She wrapped her arms around him a little tighter. "You're worried he won't come."

He shrugged again, like it didn't matter. "I don't ever know what he'll do, Mel. I'm glad we've made something like peace … And I'm happy enough to include him in my life … But, I learned a long time ago that he's not someone I can count on."

"You think he'll be any better if we have kids?" she asked, and she could feel him start grinning like a fool into the top of her hair.

"So that's on the table for sure now, is it?"

"It's never not been on the table!" she laughed. "Just, it was really hard to think that way with a crazy serial killer in the wind. So yeah, kids are … maybe a thing."

He kissed the top of her head. "Glad we can both really think about our future now. I'm so tired of Murdoc, of Phoenix, being all there is."

"So … do you think he might step up to the plate more if he's a grandpa?"

Before Mac could answer, their front door opened. "Hey, bud, sorry I'm late but guess what, man? We got a whole houseful of Murdoc's people operating in DC. I wasn't there, but …"

They heard Jack stop in the kitchen. "Woohoo, Christmas Eve, huh? Guess I better plan to eat light on the holidays or I'm gonna have to rent a tux instead of wearing the one I own."

As Jack made his way into the living room, Mac answered Mel. "If he does that'll mean they get two on my side is all. And if he doesn't, we've already got awesome grandpa covered."

"What now?" Jack asked leaning on the door jamb looking at them fondly.

"Nothin' man. Tell me about this takedown we missed out on."


	51. Chapter 51

"So …"

Mac looked up from his laptop where he was composing an email about the most recent building schematics he's just spent the last four hours poring over. Matty was standing in his doorway with an eyebrow raised.

"What's up, Matty?" he asked causally, taking his time to finish the closing line and send the email while she entered his office and closed the door behind herself.

"I think you know what's up, Blondie."

Mac closed his laptop to give her his attention. He'd sort of been waiting for this to happen. He raised an eyebrow of his own. "You were so fascinated by my last post-mission analysis that you just had to come down here to get my take on the next location for your briefing tomorrow?"

"Very funny." And while her voice held much of its accustomed severity, there was a smile in her eyes that she couldn't quite keep off her lips either. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"You know I don't do that thing where I just fill silences, Matty. First rule of being interrogated; let the other guy do the talking. Although, a better first rule is don't get your dumb ass caught and questioned, but maybe you have to come by that lesson the hard way."

Matty laughed softly. "You and Dalton certainly seemed to need to hear that lecture more than once." Her eyes were a little more serious after a moment. "You're planning on leaving, am I right or am I wrong."

He sighed. It wouldn't be fair to keep his plans from her for much longer anyway. "You're not wrong." He gave her a small smile. "How did you know?"

"Well, the 'save the date' card I got in the mail this morning was a pretty big hint, if I hadn't already figured it out, Mac." Then she smiled. "But the fact that you and Dalton haven't been banging down my door to be the primaries on these last few ops was probably my biggest clue."

"I was waiting for the right time to say something, and I don't have any definite plans yet, but …"

"But Christmas Eve is the drop-dead date on your notice …" She smiled again. "I'm just guessing."

He nodded, not seeing any point in prevaricating. "Yeah. At the absolute latest. Honestly, Matty, as soon as we finish with Murdoc, I'm out."

She shook her head, almost sadly. "I thought that was probably the case when Jack first talked to me about his shoulder … Where is Dalton this afternoon anyway?"

Mac's face split into a genuine smile. "Ultrasound. Wild horses couldn't drag him away from that. But he should be back soon."

Matty nodded. "So, you really don't have plans beyond 'leave Phoenix'?"

Mac shrugged. "Marry Mel, decide where we want to live … Make it up as we go along?"

"So, your usual then?"

"More or less," he grinned.

"Would you consider staying on as a consultant? Possibly?" she asked.

"I don't know, Matty. I don't think so. I … I think I need to just be done. It would be so easy to get sucked back in."

"Fair enough. Think about it though, would you? It could be arranged with you setting the boundaries."

"Matty, I …"

"Just think about it?"

He nodded. "Okay. I will."

She turned like she would leave, but then she seemed to reconsider it. "I know Jack was looking for some recovery time after the last mission that taxed his shoulder but, do you think you guys are up to coming to the brief on the latest location we've tracked Murdoc visiting repeatedly? I have some intel I think you guys will find interesting."

Mac hesitated for a second, then he gave a thoughtful half-nod that was less agreement and more asking for additional information.

"Nguyen got called away for a family emergency; so, if Jack's up to it, I'd like you guys to take point. Briggs is ready to act as back up and Milton is chomping at the bit to get back in the field since Medical cleared him."

He nodded. "You know Jack and I want in at every level with this. He wasn't happy the other team was taking it to begin with, but he was hurting. I think he only agreed to a break because Mel and Sarah ganged up on him. And Freddie is picking up their disapproving facial expressions like a boss."

Matty was almost smirking, but it was in a good-natured way. She quipped, "I always knew Papa Jack's kids would lose me my best tac guy one of these days."

Mac chuckled. "Speak of the devil," he smiled as Jack passed by Matty and sat down on the sofa, looking a little lost. Mac took in his expression, then asked with a little concern. "Hey, Jack? Everything go okay at the doctor's?"

"Um … yeah … Better than okay. I think."

Mac and Matty exchanged bemused looks. Matty said, "That's good, Jack. Right?"

"I … um … yeah."

Determined to draw his partner out about whatever it was that had Jack all clammed up when he'd been expecting to get his ear talked off, Mac tried again. "So, boy or girl? Or doesn't its honorary big brother get to know?"

Jack looked up from his phone at both of them and started to smile, although Mac was also sure he was about ready to cry, too. "Yeah," he replied.

Mac got up and joined Jack on the small sofa under the window. "Okay, so talk, man. The suspense is killing me."

"I meant, yeah, it's a boy and a girl …" Jack's grin suddenly split his whole face. "Twins, and they and their mama are all doing just great so far."

Matty stepped closer and half-playfully punched Jack on the arm. "So … I find out that I'm not just losing my best Tac guy, which I've known for a while, but now my best field agent, and probably my AD all in one day? You don't play fair, Jack Dalton."

Jack glanced at Mac, a little more serious for a moment. "Finally told her, huh?"

"No," Mac shook his head ruefully. "She just knew. The way she always knows when we've done something expensive or serious injury-inducing even if we kill the comms."

Jack chuckled and tipped Matty a wink. "Sorry about that whole agent thing, Matilda. Does it make you feel any better if I tell you that Sarah hasn't made up her mind about quitting yet? I mean, I'm good to be home with the kids … Three is a lot though." He suddenly grew thoughtful. "A lot, a lot."

She gave them the look, the one that pretended to be irritated but was really affectionate. "It makes me feel slightly better. And I have the consolation prize of picturing you buried in diapers for the next couple of years."

Jack looked horrified for a moment, then Mac said, "I already figured out a much better solution than Freddie's Diaper Genie. I just need to pick up a few things on the way home later."

"Knew I could count on you, kiddo. Unless you're just beta testing for when your own come along."

"Please tell me you are not already taking our best nurse off staff to, Angus MacGyver!" Matty's glare was more real this time.

Mac actually flushed. "No! I mean … God, no … We aren't even talking about kids seriously." He widened his eyes at his boss. "I swear." Then he smirked. "Scout's honor."

She laughed. "I think I'll head up to the office and congratulate the member of this Phoenix power couple who's doing the heavy lifting."

Jack looked at Matty a little awkwardly, wanting to say something, but not quite daring. She stepped up to him and motioned for him to lean toward her. Then she gave him a brief hug and whispered, "You deserve this, Jack. Congratulations. You've been killing it as a dad for years now."

A Matty hug was rare, like a butterfly in a snowstorm. Jack was caught between wanting to grin like a kid and tearing up. "Thanks, Matty."

She stepped away. "You wanna read him in on the plan for tomorrow, Blondie?"

Mac nodded, and she started to leave. Then Matty couldn't help herself. These guys were on the cusp of something really great, but they both had the shadows of their own personal Swords of Damocles in their eyes. They deserved to know their new lives were within reach.

"I guess I don't need to keep a lid on this until tomorrow with you two." Both men sat forward a little, giving her their full attention. "Based on multiple analyses, we've narrowed down Murdoc's organization to six international locations and we think we know where he's using as a home base. We're in the home stretch, guys."

Mac rolled his eyes the second he caught the look on Jack's face. "Jack, don't."

"So, what you're sayin' is …"

"Jack, for the love of your wife and children, please," Mac begged, only half kidding.

Jack's grin went from huge to shit-eating in a flash. "It's the Final Countdown!"

"Jack, stop," Mac groaned, but he had started laughing. "I was about to tell you that Matty wants us to take point on this, but now you've gone a ruined it with weird punny music humor!"

"I enhanced is what you mean."

"No. Your puns make everything worse."

"Worse? Or better?" Jack teased.

"Ugh," Mac groaned, getting up off the couch. "Let's just go check gear and stuff and get out of here until the briefing."

"Please do," Matty begged, more joking than not. "I can't take any more of Jack's puns, or dad jokes, or obscure quotes."

Jack got to his feet too. "Hey whadaya say we go out after work to celebrate a little. End of this Murdoc thing, the babies, Mac and Mel finally un-chickening out and setting a date … We got all sortsa good stuff to sing about."

Mac and Matty exchanged a look. "Sure, why not?" Mac replied.

"Good, 'cuz I know just what I'm gonna sing."

Matty rolled her eyes. "We know, we know. You're going to grace us with Europe's best-known song in your questionably dulcet tones."

"No, ma'am, I am not. We're about to get our secret agent game on again."

"Jack, please don't."

Jack slapped Mac on the back. "It's gotta be …"

"Jack … Please no more Archer references …"

"Danger Zone!"

They all cracked up as they headed off to begin to prepare for the last leg of this operation.

Mac grew thoughtful on his way to the Tac room.

Six strikes and our lives are our own. If we're good. And if we're very very lucky anyway.

 _Hey, it could happen._

 _Madagascar couldn't have been a fluke._

 _Right?_

 _Right?_

To be continued ...

Catch these guys and this AU soon in The Final Countdown


End file.
